That One Time I Fell In Love
by Moonprincess92
Summary: (And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World COMPLETE]
1. That one time I slept with a mummy

**That One Time I Fell In Love**  
(And other impossible things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [GIR World!]

Note: This is literally the fourth story I've written in this particular NextGen universe. Previous stories are:  
1\. ' _Getting it Right_ ' (Rose/Scorpius)  
2\. ' _Conclusion to Getting it Right_ ' (Rose/Scorpius) and  
3\. ' _When James Met Libby_ ' (James/Libby).  
I'm assuming you're here because you're already familiar with GIR World, but if you wanna just dive straight in with Fremma, go ahead, welcome to hell.

* * *

Chapter 1: That one time I slept with a mummy.

( _Halloween, 2029_ )

So like all good stories, it started with a lot of sex.

The name is Fred Weasley (THE SECOND, BITCHES) and I am awesome. No, really, hang with me and I'll show ya a good time! I like hot chicken wings on a Friday night, hot coffee and hot girls (not necessarily in that order). I will admit that I occasionally set things on fire and have once jumped out of a window onto a waiting broomstick. My dad is ginger, my mum is black, and I've got brown skin somewhere in between. Crazy also tends to run in the family. I subscribe to about six different magazines, none of which I even read, and once I broke both my legs after juggling flammable objects next to a display of explosives. I like a drink, I like meeting new people, and this is a story about that one time I fell in love.

… and, y'know, other impossible things.

Naturally, it started at a party, because where else do any good stories start? It was thrown by my best mate, James Potter, under the pretext of ' _Halloween_ ' but please, I think we all knew that it was solely for the purpose of getting to see his girlfriend in a sexy-Quidditch-player outfit. Not that he achieved that goal, seeing as Libby came dressed as a butterfly (no, I'm not kidding. Half the time I think the term 'quirky' just means 'certifiably insane' when applied to that girl) but at least the party was alive and swinging when I arrived!

I waltzed in with the bottle 'o booze in one hand and the other waving as I yelled across the party at my cousin, Rose. She grinned as she waved back, holding hands with Scorpius, despite the fact that they appeared to be literally in the middle of some argument right then (but what else was new?). The courtyard down the corridor from James and Libby's flat was decked out in flashing Christmas lights, people milling underneath the colours and leaning in close to yell over the blasting music. I squinted through the dark, barely dodging some discarded plastic chairs and snorting at the couple a few feet away who had tripped over the accumulating mass of empty bottles on the ground. I was expecting a little tail tonight, because let's face it, I'm a fucking catch, but why did it have to be so damn hard to see here? I had to know if I was about to sleep with a bloody troll or not! Thankfully, I managed to run into James on my way in. If I wasn't mistaken, his costume was apparently sexy-executioner, dressed in leather and splattered with fake blood, although it's hard to tell with him. He may have just been channelling a vintage-rock-band look.

"Seriously, Fred?" he said exasperatedly, throwing his arms out as he noticed me. "You came to this party dressed as … naked?"

"I'm not naked!" I protested at once. I gestured to my amazing costume and declared, "I'm a barbarian!"

"I can see that."

"Oi! You know what I mean," I punched him.

"Yes, well. But did you have to do it without pants?" James asked, jokingly holding up his hands to shield himself. Oh, honestly, he shouldn't be so disapproving considering that we used to be a team, James and me! We were wingmen until the end of night, partners in crime, helping each other steal food off our parents as kids, teasing our siblings and of course _chasin' da ladieees_. But y'know, apparently James grew up. Or whatever it is he tells me. He fell in love with Libby Fletcher a long time ago, although I guess I only just realised recently that it was the real deal. Whatever. We had a fight over it, it's over now, he can sleep with whoever he wants in my opinion. Whether that's someone different every night or the same girl over and over, so long as he's not being a whiny dick about it anymore, it's cool.

( _"But Freeeed, she's so hot! She's gotta like me, right? I'd like me, I'm brilliant! I'm brilliant … right?"_

 _"James,_ _shut the fuck up."_ ).

Anyway.

"Hey, I've got the essentials covered," I said back to James, rolling my eyes. Yeah, maybe my costume was a little hard to find after a few drinks (kinda the point) but I looked hella fine! Not everyone can rock a loin-cloth (thank god I hear you saying _… please,_ ladies love the rugged-scoundrel thing). As I glanced back up at James, I noticed Libby over his shoulder at the other end of the courtyard, currently by herself and leaning against the brick wall. "Oh, and if you're looking for your butterfly girl, she's over there," I added, gesturing over to her.

James glanced back before grinning and saying, "Thanks! Though I did actually want to talk to you for a moment. If you happen to see a woman at this party wrapped entirely in bandages, do me a favour and spill your drink all over her?"

"Ah," I said seriously. "scaring off a crazy, right?"

"Uh … yeah!" James grinned. "Let's go with that! Thanks, mate!"

I didn't quite catch what he meant by that before he turned and ran off through the crowd towards Libby. I just shrugged and was about to turn away, but that was when I caught a glance of the two of them greeting each other. James and I don't really talk about his relationship with Libby much, mainly because we have such conflicting views on the idea that we really don't want to get into it anymore. It's all been said and done now, anyway. But I folded my arms with a snort as I watched him approached her. He leaned against the courtyard wall next to her, barely even touching except for a hand reaching out and caressing hers just for a moment. His stupid grin matched her tough smile.

Jesus, could they be more ridiculously in love with each other? James, you bloody dork.

Weeeelp, time to scope out the party! Keeping an eye out for any women wrapped in bandages, I took a shot of the tequila in my hand. Naturally, I didn't expect the first girl I talked to that night to also be my cousin, but there's no denying Rose Weasley's head of crazy red curls.

"… challenging your inner Lily, I see?" she laughed as I approached.

"What, this old thing?" I asked, raising the bottle. "Some girl left it in my fridge, figured I couldn't let it go to waste. Got anything to chase it with?"

"Naturally," Rose said. "I think there's some pumpkin juice somewhere …"

"On second thoughts," I added, screwing up my face. "I may just take it straight."

"I'll help," Scorpius joined our conversation. He was rubbing his forehead warily, now leaning an elbow on Rose's shoulder. Both of their costumes matched in some old-timey fashioned way. I think they were trying to channel their inner William Shakespeare (not that I know who that is or anything).

"Scorpius! How's it going?"

"A goddamned nightmare. Give me that –"

I snorted, handing over the tequila. Rose just scoffed as he took a shot. "It wouldn't be so bad if this one didn't spend half the night writing his overdue reports," she explained as Scorpius shivered and handed the bottle back to me. "Honestly–"

"You know I'm under a lot of stress!"

"That's what you get when you spend the better part of your work day coming up with slogans for your next conference rather than actually working!" Rose mentioned lightly. Scorpius pulled a face at her before kissing the side of her head.

"It's technically still work."

"It's technically still making you a whiny bitch when you come home."

"I resent that!"

"You legit told me that your next slogan is going to be 'Muggles before puddles … of DESTRUCTION'!" Rose said exasperatedly.

Scorpius screwed up his nose. "Ok, yeah, I have no excuses. I fail as a human being."

"Yes, you do," Rose smiled. She softly kissed his cheek before adding, "you succeed at being Scorpius, though."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Why the hell am I still talking to you two?" I asked in amazement.

"You know you love us!" Rose grinned. "Nice costume, by the way, I think it's the bones in your hair that really pull it off."

I reached up and tugged on one of the chicken bones that I was now super glad I hadn't been bothered throwing away earlier in the day. They got stuck in my dark, curly hair really well! Along with the loincloth and fake bloody rags tied around my arms, I was rockin' the perfect bod. Girls legit couldn't resist all this, hell, even some blokes too! I mean, sometimes it really pays to be not that fussy like myself.

"Ah, y'know. I always like to make an effort for you birds."

"Anyone you got your eye on?" Rose smirked.

"Nah, but James mentioned a crazy ex-girlfriend of his, asked me to scare her off for him," I said, glancing around the party. "I swear, if it's that fucking Diana girl again asking to shave his back for her, I'm not going there! James seriously needs to start reconsidering who he lets into the building."

"Do we even want to know?" Scorpius asked.

"James asked me to distract her," I shrugged. "Thought I'd help a mate out, but she turned out to be a right weirdo. Luckily she didn't get obsessed with me as well. I have enough stalkers to last a lifetime."

"On that note," Rose drained the last of her own drink. "I need another. See you around, ok, Fred?"

"Sound – hope you don't kill yourself, Scorpius!"

"You get me," Scorpius said, pointing back at me with a grin as Rose tugged him off.

Once Rose and Scorpius disappeared off into the vastly-growing crowd, I moved on to talking to a random mate of James' that I'd gotten to kinda know at the amount of these shindigs we throw. I know you'll think it's weird, but I swear I actually have fun talking to loads of different people! No one ever believes me when I say that I don't really have _friends_.

"But you must have people you see on a regular basis!" they always argue.

"Yeah, but they're my cousins," I shrug. "they have to see me."

"Doesn't that count?"

Nah, not really, at least not in my eyes. I've got James and he was all I needed, despite the fact that even our best-friendship-since-toddlerhood had taken a few hits recently. So stop trying to force a few close friends on me, I like it this way! I like being able to just go and talk to anyone, I liked meeting new people and I certainly liked how there wasn't this huge expectation to be a particular kind of person with someone. When you're actually friends with someone, they get to know you, you can't hide a single thing and it's kind of my bloody nightmare. When you're with someone new … you didn't have to be yourself, if you didn't want to. You didn't have to be a nice person if you'd had a bad day and all you wanted was some loud and angry sex to deal with it. When you're talking to someone new, you could be whoever the hell you wanted! Like tonight, I was FRED THE BARBARIAN!

It was about midnight when I spotted her.

The girl looked roughly my age and I would've noticed her straight away, even without the costume, considering how much hair she had. It was thick, light golden brown and curly, almost to the point where it was so frizzy that it literally defied gravity. She had tied a bandage around her head, and her long-sleeved top and white jeans were draped in even more bandages. A mummy. And a kinda hot mummy, at that.

Huh. I didn't recognise her as an ex. Must've been one of those insane ones back from the early days when the both of us literally just about fucked anyone. James seriously needs to invest in a doorman, or something.

She was talking to another girl I didn't recognise and yeah, she was pretty damn attractive, even with nearly all her skin covered. I could hear her voice from over here and could tell straight away that she was definitely a native Londoner. She was a little curvy and that hair was kind of nutty, but she had a cute smile and when she and her friend quickly turned around, laughing as they glanced over their shoulders and apparently avoiding someone, I noticed _that arse in those jeans_. Blimey!

Too bad she was crazy, but this could be fun.

"Hey!" I skidded in next to the two girls, pressing my shoulder to the crazy mummy and glancing around conspiratory. "Who're we hiding from, huh?"

Her friend gave me a weird look (ok, this tactic only works like, 60% of the time) but the girl snorted with laughter.

"Our friend!" she explained. "We may or may not have stolen some of her alcohol and we're hoping she don't find us."

"What happened to your alcohol?" I asked.

She grinned right on back. "We drank it."

Yep! I could do this girl.

"Cheers to that," I told her, lifting my tequila. She clinked it with her own bottle, her friend just shaking her head and following suit. We straightened up when it became clear that the friend they'd stolen from had moved on past and to help a mate out (James, you better fucking love me) I decided to use the excuse of tripping while moving to spill her cheap beer all over her. Only, before I could even fake-move, the girl was suddenly shoved from behind and the cheap beer ended up being thrown in my face instead.

"Oh my god!" both girls shrieked with laughter as I yelped. "Oh my god, I'm so – so sorry!"

"Yeah, you're really broken up about it," I grumbled, wiping beer out of my eyes. What was with this girl?

"Oh, well," the girl just grinned. "At least you don't have to worry about it staining your costume … no, seriously, I can't believe that just happened, I am so sorry …"

"Forget about it. You're right, I don't really have much of a costume?" I glanced down innocently at my beer-splattered body.

"Oh, no!" the girl shook her head, eyeing me. "It's a great costume, honestly! You're a cave-man, right?"

"Barbarian, but who's taking notice?"

"Certainly not me," the girl smirked.

"My name's Fred, by the way."

" _Fred_?" the girl's eyes widened in recognition, which was weird, seeing as I'd never ever met her before. "You're James' mate?"

"You know about me?"

"I think he's mentioned ya once or twice," the girl answered. "Oh, I'm Emma, just puttin' it out there."

"Well, Emma, I didn't think you'd be talking to James that much anymore," I admitted, starting to get a little confused.

"What d'you mean?" Emma laughed in about as much confusion as I probably felt. "I only met him like, a couple of weeks ago!"

" _Couple of weeks_ – ok, so you're not an ex-girlfriend, then?"

"Of James?" Emma scoffed. "HELLLL no! I work with Libby, that's how we met, James is a mate of mine!"

"That little bastard …" I grumbled under my breath. I don't know what kind of fucking prank he was trying to pull, but I'd somehow been reduced to a blundering eejit in front of this hot girl thanks to him!

"Don't tell me," Emma snorted. "he sent you over here to get back at me?"

"Why would he do that?"

"I dunno, maybe his paralyzing fear of the undead?"

"Oh, yeah. The zombie thing," I muttered. "They freak him out."

"I dressed like a mummy on purpose," Emma smirked. "Gotta install some fibre in that bloke somehow!"

For a moment, I just stared at this girl called Emma, who had somehow gotten beer spilled all over _me_ , had a cheeky grin and flirted like there was no tomorrow. She was James' friend. She worked with Libby. She was hot, she probably had a boyfriend or something. Despite how promising this first interaction of ours seemed to be going, I realised that she was the last person in the world I should be trying to take home.

"So, Emma. Wanna get out of here?"

* * *

BAM! So that's how it happened!

Well, the first time anyway.

It was a little bizarre. She tripped over my umbrella stand and we left a lamp on ("I can't see a damned thing and do you WANT me to fall over that thing again?"). She kissed like a sailor, rough and a little uneasy, but experienced, like she knew exactly how she liked it and wasn't messing about. Her jeans turned out to be so tight that she couldn't get them off herself and she collapsed back onto my bed in annoyance, waving her feet in the air and asking, "Help a girl out, huh?" Her hair was kind of ridiculous and got in the way, but she seemed to like it when I tangled my fingers in it. She managed to get her hands in my pants, but we didn't really mess around. We mostly got straight to it.

And. It. Was. _Phenomenal_.

It was only once we had utterly collapsed, tangled up in a bizarre mix of limbs and Halloween costumes, that I realised that this was the first time in ages that I'd almost completely skipped the foreplay. I've had my share of hard-and-fast fucks against the club wall, because let's face it, sometimes you can't afford to be picky, but I'd admittedly never cared much for them. So I'm the guy who likes to take his time! What, is that a crime? Emma pushed back her mane of hair before catching my eye. Then, she let out what sounded like a nervous giggle and hid her face in her hands.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh my god," she muttered without looking up. "I am nuts. I legit just slept with a Weasley!"

"Yeah, well, we're a crazy bunch," I said, dryly.

She giggled again, but kept her face hidden. I glanced down at her curiously. Who the hell was this woman? Just several mind-shattering moments ago, she was scalding hands and rough lips in all the right places! Now, there was a kind of nervous energy around her. I didn't have a clue why. The woman kind of had _skilllllls_ , if you know what I … fuck it, you know what I mean. I wondered whether she maybe didn't do this sort of thing that often, so I lifted the arm that was currently trapped underneath her and lazily caressed her side. It seemed to relax her as she gave a muffled and contented sigh, letting her hands slide away from her face.

"Did you happen to notice that we were both really quite good back there?"

Emma just snorted, glancing over to throw me a look. "Whatever, you did all the work."

"Give yourself credit, girl," I insisted. "No, really, you got creative! Totally nailed it … no pun intended, I swear."

Emma ended up snorting with laughter anyway, hiding her eyes again as she rolled away from me. She had a weird, infectious laugh that stuck in your head. Actually, when I thought about it, pretty much all of her was weird and infectious. I hadn't been kidding when I'd told her she had skills, despite whatever she might think of herself ( _you don't handle a bloke's dick like that without having at least a little sass in you, fucking Jesus_ ) and the night was still young … seemed a shame to waste it.

"So … round two?"

Emma just turned and glanced at me.

"Does that mean it's my turn this time?" she asked.

Oh, yeah. It was a party down there.

"Let's go to town, Emma."

* * *

So seriously, that's how this entire thing started! A crazy, wild one-night stand that began and ended in the usual way: not stopping at round one ( _or two_ ), passing out due to sheer exhaustion sometime in the night and waking up the next morning with only slight awkwardness and not much said apart from inquiries into whether she needed to use the fireplace to get home or not. You know, I had been all prepared to be mad at James for using me to do his dirty work for him, but if this was what I got out of it, I didn't think I was going to mind so much! It may have occurred to me at one point that yeah, maybe sleeping with her PROBABLY wasn't the best idea; she was mates with Libby, and lord help us all if that woman got angry! But shit, who the hell cared? Emma got a good shag out of it, the reality was that if she told Libby like any friend would, it would just be to say what a great lay I was and what a rockin' bod I had! There was _literally nothing bad_ about this, right?

RIGHT?

 _Wrong_.

I discovered quite harshly what the one thing that was wrong with this hare-brained idea was roughly one week later. See, I know it may surprise you (because of course I am a man of many, many talents) but I am not exactly what one would call _frugally-adept_. In other words … I don't know how the fuck tax returns worked. I barely even knew how money worked, unless it was to buy a new sofa or plastic flamingo (and noooo, I don't own one of those). Either way, my dad had placed me in charge of the shop's finances because apparently, we haven't hired someone else to do that and he thought it would be, and I quote, "Good for you, you little shit! Now stop complaining and value our revenue!" After much hair pulling and crying to Verity who knew about accounting as much as I did, I eventually resigned myself to having go to Gringotts.

Goblins are not a particularly friendly bunch, let me tell you!

"… what do you mean, we HAVE to do this now!" I was yelling at the short and stocky-looking goblin behind the counter. He was gritting his teeth and glaring at me, refusing to back down on his 'no rocking up without an appointment' policy. I swear, this guy was in the secret Magical CIA at some point. "If I don't get this done today, we miss the due date for this financial year!"

"Well, you should have thought about that before you came in," the goblin practically spat at me.

"Look here mate, I've been trying to figure this out on my own all day!" I cried, slamming my fist down on the counter, various tax papers fluttering. "I'm about to kill myself over it and I haven't waited in line for over an hour just to have you tell me no–"

"Sir, you have no ID, no proof of address, no proof that you are the accountant of this business," the goblin glared. "It's our policy to protect against potentially fraudulent scams."

"IT'S FUCKING WEASLEY'S WIZARDS WHEEZES!" I lost it.

"Forgive me when I say you don't look like a Weasley."

"MY MUM IS BLACK, I DON'T CONTROL GENETICS!" I roared. "I've been working at that shop my whole life! Just because I don't have my Apparition Licence on me–"

"Or proof of address," I swear to god, that fucking Goblin SMIRKED at me. "Or proof of employment."

I silently seethed at him for what felt like a good five minutes, unable to come up with a counter argument to this. Eventually, the goblin waved behind him at what looked like a security officer before turning back to me and saying straight to my face,

"NEXT."

That little fucker.

I swept all the accounts back into my arms, fuming under my breath about fucking goblins and how I may or may not be considering kidnapping them all and hurling them off a very tall cliff. Everyone standing in the line stared at me and I stared right on back because I couldn't give a damn what they thought! One woman was daring to give me a disapporoving look and I threw her one hell of a fucking glare back. Judge all you want, lady! GRINGOTTS COULD SUCK IT –

Oh, god.

That's when I saw her.

She wore what looked like a well-worn denim jacket over a shirt-and-tie uniform. A set of robes were half-stuffed inside the bag that she carried over her shoulder. A Cursebreaker, obviously off shift and heading home after work. I had already caught her eye and glared at her too, before I realised that I was staring straight into the face of Emma.

SHIT.

Normally, I avoided girls I'd been with like the plague. It was a bloody no-brainer, a sort of unspoken rule of mine and James' back from the day and I'd just continued it, even after he'd gone off with Libby. _Never see them again_. If you see them again, there's potential for it to become something. You don't want to risk the something! It wasn't often I ran into anyone I'd ever been with anyway, and I realised now, in that one moment of accidentally catching Emma's eye, it was because I always made sure to get off with someone I didn't know at all. Someone with no connections to me, or anyone else I knew. Someone I was bound run into again only on a one in a million chance. Like that actress once who flew in for the weekend (well, she claims she was an actress, lord knows she was probably in one underground stage play and that was it), or the Spanish girl who was sight-seeing and could only speak enough English to literally string together the sentence, "Sex me, I consent!" I realised now, far too late, that sleeping with Emma had been a RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™ ( _yes, capitals needed_ ).

"Fred!" Emma said in surprise.

"Shit, Emma!" I skidded to a halt. "I didn't mean to–"

"What're you doing here?" she asked, a hasty smile on her face. She was clearly trying very hard not to make it awkward, which I did appreciate, but quite honestly, with the day I was having, I was ready to fucking snap something!

"I – I'm not allowed to use the bank?" I asked.

Emma grinned. "I thought it was you yelling at poor Bodorock over there. Bad day?"

"Oh, no," I rolled my eyes. "Just ol' Bodo and I catching up, we're actually quite good mates."

"Go on," Emma said. "What's up?"

Remember RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™? Yeah, I certainly didn't. Because if I had, I would've blown her off by now and been on my merry way to go drown my headache with a good Firewhiskey. But Emma, bless her, was trying so hard to get through this unintentional meeting with minimal damage and quite honestly, I blame frustration, the lack of a sensible drink in me and the fact that I could still picture that body of hers underneath that uniform … _damn_ , the uniform.

So I answered her.

"I got stuck with accounting duty when I know fuck all about it," I admitted, gesturing half-heartedly to the stack of crumpled up accounts in my arms. "Bodo over there wouldn't help me without ID, which naturally, I forgot. I was just about to go plot his demise while crying over a Firewhiskey."

"So, a bit of a rough day then?"

"A bit, yeah," I rolled my eyes and Emma was clearly trying to supress the fact that she was laughing. Somehow, we ended up falling into a pace with each other, leaving the bank for the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley outside. I could see the shop even from here far down the street, the windows currently exploding and crackling with their displays of a new brand of fireworks.

"Well, I wish I could help you," Emma told me as we casually walked down the street. "but accounting isn't really my department."

"No, your department is hunting down precious jewels and fighting mummies," I said.

Emma snorted. "Is that really what people think we do? Seriously, I'd say about 80% of my job is staring at old, dead things!"

"What's the other 20%?"

"What else?" Emma shrugged. "Paperwork."

"Ah, paperwork," I sighed. "Normally when that season rolls around the office I manage to keep myself from being bored to death by imaging some rather creative things I could do with my desk."

"Oh, really?" Emma sent me a side-long glance. "Any moves in particular?"

* * *

SLAM.

"Ow, fuck – I think you just cracked my head–" Emma hissed.

"Shhhh, you're fine–" I kissed her again, kneading the tender skin on the back of her head that I may or may not have just accidentally slammed into my bedroom door. "–it's not great sex unless someone gets a little hurt, right?"

I think she tried to answer, but all she got out was, " _Mmmmfpt_ ," as she caressed my tongue with her own.

We shut up talking then. I can barely even tell you how we got here shoved up against my bedroom door. One second she was eye-fucking me in the middle of goddamned Diagon Alley ( _honestly_ ) and the next BAM, we were in my flat. I remembered her mouth from last time and it was currently doing incredible things to my lips. It was enough to make me fumble as I pulled her away from the door, continuing to kiss her furiously as I wrenched the tie off from around her neck. She gave a strangled noise in the back of her throat as I thrust a knee between hers and let us fall back onto my bed. The answer is NO, I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. I'd already slept with this girl! It supposed to be time to cut my losses and run the hell outta there! I had certainly never slept with the same woman twice in my entire life. But blame it on the headache, blame it on the rough day I'd had, blame it on Emma's dorky smile and the way she had flushed at my ridiculous office fantasy which I'll admit I'd used her face for once since Halloween …

Later, when there were significantly less clothes between us and I had my face between her legs, she actually told me,

"So once is an accident, but does twice make this a thing?"

I looked up in confusion. "You wanna talk about this _now_?"

"What, no!" Emma yanked on my hair. Jesus, I get the message, princess. "I mean – _blimey_ – I was talking out loud."

I gave a non-committal sort of sound, seeing as my mouth really was otherwise occupied.

"Well, I _mean_ …" Emma hissed slightly, hand flexing in my hair. "I've been told about you, I know you get around and stuff – _oh_ –"

"Yeah, well," I grunted. "I can't imagine you haven't been around either–"

"Get it, get it," Emma hastily cut over me. "Admittedly I don't normally do the casual thing, but – _yes_ , _shit, oh my godddd_ – I've got enough experience to know when sex is amazing–"

"Your point?" I squeezed her hip.

Emma snorted, although it quickly turned into a groan. "All – all I'm saying is that we'retoogoodtoneverdothisagain!" she got out all in one quick breath. "This is just – just–"

I held up a finger, asking her to wait a moment. She did so gladly as I got to work and it was within in the next minute that I had her writhing and moaning under me. I grinned in triumph as she clawed her hands down my body, hauling me up towards her so that she could plant a kiss square on my lips.

"… you were saying something about sex?" I mentioned.

"It literally cannot stop here," Emma nodded, still breathing heavily.

"Who said anything about stopping?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

She breathed, "Thank god," before promptly flipping me over.

I could get used to this.

* * *

If you don't really know me, then it might just be impossible to explain how I felt about sleeping with the same girl twice. See, I know it'll come as a shocker, but I don't do love. I don't do relationships and I certainly don't do sleeping with the same person. I get in and get out! ( _Not that fast, shut up_ ). I fuck 'em and move on, hoping to never see them again. It was something that James and I had agreed on once we'd left Hogwarts castle one summer night over a Firewhiskey (or six).

"I'm serious, I don't ever want a relationship," eighteen-year-old drunk me had told him.

"Amen to that!" my best friend had cried in agreement. "It only messes with your head."

"You get me!" I'd said. "Mate, let's just not go there, like _ever_."

"Ever, ever?" James had asked, looking a little put out. "But what about sex?"

"We can have sex!" I had told him. "Just no relationships."

James had very quickly agreed with me, claiming that he was in and that he wasn't all that bothered with relationships anyway and noooo, I don't think I'll change my mind … yeah, so clearly that one didn't turn out as planned. And I wasn't mad at him anymore for deciding to take a chance and leap into it with Libby. Those two worked, in a weird way, and if it wasn't affecting me then they were free to do whatever they damn well pleased. So long as I could still fuck around, I was happy! So I did and was and still am. Ever since my first one-night stand as a still slightly awkward seventeen-year-old having literally just graduated school a week ago (I still remember Nadine, I don't think she'll ever forgive me for biting her like that) I'd been this way.

Unless you get that, you don't understand what I was thinking when I slept with Emma again.

For a moment, I just totally and completely panicked. I had managed to put up a front and stayed all chatty and la, la, la when she was here, but as soon as she'd Flooed back home, her tie shoved in her pocket and shirt hastily buttoned, I think I may have given a strangled yell before curling up on the floor and rocking back and forth. Nothing good could come of this! I slept with her twice! TWICE, I TELL YOU! I was positively in love with her already, I KNEW IT! She'd left with some cheeky comment about seeing me again, but it couldn't happen, _it couldn't happen_. What the hell had I been THINKING?

WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST DO?!

But, eventually, I had calmed down. Relax, mate. You've lived 25 years without falling in love once! Just because Emma rocked on into your life more than once and kind of blew your mind doesn't mean it's going to suddenly happen now. Admittedly, the sex _was_ good with her, but so had a lot of others I'd been with. It wasn't like she was the best I'd ever had or anything …

It was just sex.

 _Just sex_.

I kept telling myself that as I hung around Gringotts bank about a week later, waiting for the shift end, hands shoved in my pockets and trying to not look like a total creeper.

It's just sex, I kept saying when she noticed me and grinned.

 _IT'S JUST SEX_.

* * *

A/N: Hi yall, so this is me, officially out of control.

Apparently, Fremma are back (BITCHES), ready to get into all sorts of hijinks and make our lives hell. The fact that I'm even committing to posting this is utterly terrifying, but quite frankly, my trash son Fred deserves his story being told, so … here I am!

For those who have found themselves clicking on this by accident, yes, this is in fact the fourth story in a series, though you probably don't have to have read the other stories to understand this. For reference's sake, the Halloween party from James' POV is in chapter 27 of _When James Met Libby_. :)

Also, for anyone who actually cares about my life, yes I left New Zealand about a year ago now and after some time frolicking on Cali beaches (JK, in reality, I spent a majority of my time in the US trying to teach kids how to sail and getting very drunk, lol), I now live in England. While I'm better with the homesickness these days, I'm still currently a delicate and fragile human being at the moment, so please send me love and alcohol kthankz. x

Anyway! You dear amazing people, if you're even still with me, please comment and let me know if I've actually gone crazy.

I LOVE YOU ALL!  
Moon. Xoxo


	2. That one time I got caught up in a thing

That One Time I Fell In Love.  
(And other impossible things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 2: That one time I got caught up in a thing.

It wasn't just sex.

I can tell you that now, of course, but at the time I would swear until I was blue in the face that we were literally nothing! She was just … a thing. Someone. Someone I apparently had sex with every now and then. It wasn't even friends with benefits, because I don't think we ever had one proper conversation. It was literally just BENEFITS! And it was fine. It worked.

Until it didn't … but I'm getting too far ahead.

It was sometime in November when I finally realised the full extent of what the hell I'd just gotten myself into. I didn't work at the joke shop full time or even have a schedule, really. My usual job had a rather erratic timetable, so I just went in and helped out whenever, maybe one day a week or on the weekends. Weasley's Wizards Wheezes was my dad's pride and joy, after all. Thaaaat, and I may or may not have accidentally blown it up several months ago. It's a long story, let's just say I learned that it's a rather bad idea to juggle exploding piñatas right next to a pressure-sensitive fireworks display ("I could've told you that," my dad had said exasperatedly to me in the hospital). Look, I did my community service, blame James, it wasn't ALL my fault!

Either way, the shop was looking pretty flash now that it had been rebuilt, although we'd lost a lot of business with it being out for several months. Finally, we were getting back into the swing of things and parents were going to start flocking in soon, trying to think of Christmas presents for their insane children. That's where we came in! Outside, the weather was pretty abysmal as it pissed it down, so the amount of people in here was probably just because no one wanted to get a little wet. I had just sighed and flicked another page of the Quidditch magazine I was reading against the front counter when a voice said,

"Jesus, do you ever actually work?"

"About as much as you do, Roxie," I said without even looking up.

I could tell it was my younger sister pretty much straight away, seeing as she scoffed at me and smacked my head with her bag as she swept past around the counter. "Hey!" I yelled in indignation.

"Do some work and you might not get in my way," she teased, turning and sticking her tongue out at me.

"What are you five?"

"Older than you are, dogbreath."

Rather unfortunately for them, there was a Pygmy Puff display cage right next to me on the counter. I ended up grabbing a squeaking pink one and throwing it at Roxanne's head. She squealed and cringed and the Pygmy Puff was rebounded off her forehead with a slight, _'Weeeee_!'

"OI!"

The two of us snapped to attention at once. Dad had arrived and had apparently caught the little pink Pygmy Puff that was now trembling in his hands. Oh, George Weasley. His hair was definitely grey rather than red now and a lot of the time he had hard lines on his face and a look his in eyes that told you that he'd been through hell in his day, ' _so don't you fucking cross me, bitch_ '. You could always count on him to make us wilt. I don't know what I'd do without my dad being disappointed in me! Roxanne shuffled her 50-Galleon boots on the floor, refusing to meet his stern gaze. Roxanne had the same brown skin and dark curly hair as I did, so while half the time a lot of people thought we were twins, I legit don't think anyone actually believed that George Weasley was our father.

"Would you two please refrain from killing each other, until at least after lunch time?" Dad asked. "It's not even ten o'clock yet!"

"She started it!"

"Dad, tell your son to get off his arse and actually do something for a change."

"I'm working!" I said, holding a hand to my heart. "Besides, you see my arse sitting down? Noooope, still standing here."

"Leaning against the counter doesn't count," Roxanne said.

"What the hell do you know?"

"DAD!"

"Fred," Dad turned and smirked at me. "Get to work."

" _DAD_!"

"I've got re-stocking that needs doing in aisle seven!" Dad flicked his wand and produced a list from nowhere before sending it flying into my chest. "And I think the Pygmy Puff cage is starting to smell, don't you? I don't want you to stink up the place, huh little guy …?" he added in a cooing voice to the Puff in his hands as he moved to place it back in its cage. I noticed the pink bundle of fuzz poke a furry tongue out at me once he was back inside.

"In the meantime," Dad continued. "Roxie can take counter."

"Yes," she cried.

"Wha – Dad, I got here first!" I complained.

"Better hop to it, guys," Dad said, cheerfully. "This rain's going to turn in a massive crowd!"

I grumbled and complained, but unfortunately knew better than to challenge my dad. The guy is crazy, I swear. He moved away then to talk to a witch who had approached the front counter asking for assistance and Roxanne just held out the list Dad had sent me and I'd promptly tossed aside. She left it swinging on the end of her finger, a smug expression on her face.

"Just you wait," I told her, snatching the list back off her. "one of these days, Dad's gonna cut me some slack and you'll be the one cleaning out the Pygmy Puffs."

"Not likely!" Roxanne grinned. "Oh, and don't be a dickhead to everyone you meet and maybe he wouldn't have to snap at you."

"I hate you."

"Hate you, too!"

I stuck my tongue back out at the evil Pygmy Puff before storming away from my stupid little sister. Honestly, she was only four years younger than me, but that meant she was the baby of the entire Weasley family. Seriously, she was the youngest cousin out of all of us at 21 years old, which meant that she had been spoiled and babied and looked after her entire life. No wonder she was perpetually chipper, crazy as fuck and could afford 50-Galleon boots! Me, sometimes I would have months where I could afford to splurge on a new knick-knack, but others I was lucky if I could even pay my rent on time.

Re-stocking shelves was so boring that I could basically do it without even looking. Actually … I know I should be refraining myself of me and my usual ridiculous ideas (I BLEW UP A JOKE SHOP I HEAR YOU REMINDING ME) but I had just grabbed a bandana from two aisles over and was levitating costume packages completely blindfolded when another girl voice said,

"So that's a good idea, huh?"

"Shit–! WHOA!" I lept out of my skin and as a result, sent an entire box of wigs crashing to the floor. I whirled around, but forgot that I couldn't see. As a result, I skidded on a wig that had been flung across the floor, nearly crashing to my death.

"Oh my god!" the voice said again as I swore and grumbled under my breath, pulling the bandana down off my eyes as I staggered back to my feet. Emma came into view, her jacket stained dark from the rain and her frizzy brown hair plastered to the sides of her face. But she was laughing and I gaped for a moment, suddenly not quite knowing what to do with my hands.

An entire months worth of sex suddenly came flying behind my eyes without me really wishing it to. Ok, maybe I wanted it to a little. Strange didn't even cover how it felt to have her standing in front of me in public. I almost felt guilty for picturing her against my will without her clothes, and I had to look away and stare at the offending wigs still strewn about the floor. Here was me thinking that this would be totally fine, yeah, I could sleep with this girl and have it stay as nothing! Tooootally, she had a lack of confidence that I could work with, or at least I'd thought she had. It had soon become quite clear over the last month though that as we got more used to each other, she could apparently get rather comfortable …

 _("Fred, you've clearly never done shower sex before if you're gonna hold me like that," she'd remarked a couple of weeks ago. "OW –!"_

" _Jesus, I don't even know why I suggested this," I'd grumbled back, hastily letting go of her._

" _I'm sorry, YOU suggested this?" Emma was literally arguing in the middle of a shower, water pouring over her disgruntled face, arms folded across her chest in a huff. "I was innocently trying to get clean before leaving and YOU followed me in here!"_

"… _your point?"_

" _If we're doin' this, we're doin' it properly. Now kiss me.")_

I mean, I've been around. You know that, I know that, Emma fucking knows that – I've done my fair share of women. I've had good sex, bad sex, and the _worst sex you could possibly imagine_ (word of advice: if you're consenting to being tied up, assure first that your partner is in fact NOT a psychopath who was due in court five days ago). Which just goes to show that I had no clue what the hell kept making me go back to Emma. Yeah, she was hot –

 _("I don't know why you still insist on wearing underwear every time you come over," I muttered into her ear, feeling said underwear under my hands._

" _Because they're fun to take off," Emma had smirked back._

 _She kept wearing them_ ).

– and yeah, the sex was kinda on a whole new level of its own –

 _("Shit, shit – oh c'mon, you KNOW I don't like that!" I'd complained._

" _I know, you annoyed me."_

" _How could I possibly annoy you right now?"_

" _Bonehead, even your face annoys me," Emma grinned up at me. Her hands moved. "Better?"_

" _Better," I'd squeaked_ ).

– but seriously! She wasn't THAT amazing! In fact she was mouthy, annoying and a little too sassy for her own good. But naturally, in the face of her now, I was desperately trying to keep my Mr Cool & Calm exterior, despite the fact that I had literally just tripped over a wig in front of her. I like to think that I succeeded, although on the inside, I'll admit that I was fucking screaming.

What was she even doing here? Why was she talking to me outside of my flat?

I WAS GOING TO FALL IN LOVE WITH HER NOW, I KNEW IT!

"Fred?" Emma mentioned then. "Helllooooo …?"

"What – hello – yeah – it raining out there?" I leaned against the nearest shelf casually.

Emma pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh. Jesus, those lips. Don't think about the lips. "Just a bit, yeah," she said. "Even _Impervious_ wasn't doing it, so I thought I'd duck in on the way back from lunch. What're you doing here?"

"It's my dad's shop," I said defensively. _You found me, girl_.

"Well, yeah," Emma shrugged. "but don't you have a job? What do you even do when you aren't beddin' women?"

I just snorted and waved a hand. "Sweetheart, please."

Emma shot me a look at that, but didn't press again. I think this was the longest encounter we'd ever had before clothes started coming off! I didn't even know if I really liked her as a person or anything. Sure, she had a spunky side, but I was slowly discovering that it was also a kind of demanding-control-freak side. Yeah, I mean, I was attracted to her no kidding, I wouldn't be sleeping with her otherwise … but apart from that, what did I see in her? Jesus!

"Why're you here?" I ended up demanding.

"The rain," she shrugged.

"Oh, come on!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing talking to me? We don't do this."

"Maybe you don't," Emma shot back at once. "but me, I saw someone I knew and came over to see 'em. That's sort of what one does in polite society."

"What a princess. Oh, come on, you know me," I snorted. "In what universe am I polite society?"

Emma just mock sighed. "Should've known better," she said. "Tell me, are you a little shit to everyone, or is it just me?"

"Just you, Princess."

"I highly doubt that."

"Just hang around a Weasley family event and you'd find out," I said.

I blinked.

WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?

Emma raised an eyebrow at that and I quickly blurted out,

"No, wait! Fuck you!"

"What the hell?" she scowled back. "FUCK YOU."

"Right!" I said, quickly. "I think that was a pretty good conversation, wouldn't you say? Been nice sleeping with ya, see you tonight – no? OK, BYEEEEE."

And with that, I turned on my heel and promptly skidded on yet another wig that I'd failed to pick up.

Jesus, I had so much dignity. What the hell was wrong with me? I hadn't meant that back there at all, it had just come out and immediately realised how it could be interpreted. Naturally, I'd panicked! What if she took it the wrong way? Nah, no, she knew I was only in this for the sex. She knew that. I had absolutely NO intentions of letting my family get anywhere near her! For her own protection clearly, seeing as my family was made up of a bunch of criminally-insane nutjobs. She was never going to want to sleep with me again!

Oh, well. Guess it was fun while it lasted.

"Who was that?" Roxanne's annoying voice chimed in.

"No one, shut up," I thumped her on the arm.

"It's not no one, you're literally hiding behind the front counter," Roxanne pointed out, glancing down at the top of my head.

"Who's hiding? YOU'RE HIDING!" I said.

"Fine, whatever," Roxanne just rolled her eyes. "Be weird. See if I care. By my accounts she doesn't look hot enough for you to try and sleep with her, and I know you're not related to her, so by process of elimination that must mean you work with her for you to be casually chatting–"

"Who the hell says she's not hot enough?" I scowled.

Roxanne looked down at me crouched behind the counter among the plastic bags and rubbish bin with a triumphant look on her face. "Aha!" she said gleefully. "So you DID sleep with her?"

"So what?"

"Why're you talking to her in broad daylight, then?" Roxanne asked. "Don't you normally love 'em and leave 'em?"

My little sister had a point. I normally did. I didn't even know why I was suddenly hiding behind the front counter. Maybe it was because she had yelled back at me. I don't fucking know. I know I certainly didn't expect her to turn up that night, so later that evening when I answered my door to have her standing there, I had to quickly glance around outside.

"What're you –?" Emma began.

"Just checking that I'm in the right flat," I said.

Emma rolled her eyes before shoving me back inside. She quickly followed, shutting the door behind her. "Just letting you know, I'm still mad at you!" she told me as she tugged her thick winter jacket off.

"Fair enough, I'm mad at me," I said, walking backwards from her as she approached. She threw her bag against the wall. "Hey!" I complained at that. "I know my place isn't exactly Casa De Fancy, but I put a lot of thought into decorating this place! Have some respect for the wall!"

"Fred, I know for a fact that you own a boob lamp," Emma shot me a look. "You couldn't giva shit about the wall."

"The lamp was a gift!"

Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Ok, fine, I bought it in a thrift shop."

"Why are you bein' so determined to make me hate you?" Emma asked me.

"What – I'm not –"

"Yes, you are!" Emma countered, pointing an accusing finger at me. She came a little closer down my hallway. I suddenly felt the need to prove a point and stand my ground. "You're being a dickhead on purpose! Is this because of what you said earlier today? You know I don't care. I've met most of your family already, I certainly know they're all crazy."

Maybe it was. Maybe I was trying to get rid of her. Yep, this was a nice wild game for a little bit, but it had gone far enough now! Time to wake up and face reality, Freddo – Emma … Emma … whatever her last name was, HAD TO GO!

"What's your last name?" I asked.

Emma gave me the strangest look she'd mustered up so far. "Why?"

"I can't dramatically throw you out of here without a last name!"

"Oh, for god's sake," Emma rolled her eyes.

"Never mind then," I stormed up to her and took her eblow, steering her back round towards the door. "It was nice knowing ya, Emma Oh For God's Sake, but our time is at an end!" I bent down and picked up her bag, shoving it into her arms. "I've come to expect this kind of attitude from you, which obviously means that I've somehow gotten to know you, and that tells me this has gone waaaay too far! So see ya, have a nice life and all that –" Like the gentleman I was, I opened the door for her.

She threw her bag in my face.

"OUCH!"

"Douchebag, get off me!" Emma yelled, wrenching her elbow out of my grip. The door slammed shut once more. My weird neighbours would be round in a minute wondering what was wrong ( _oh, nothing Mrs Ramsey, I was just being murdered by a very pretty, very angry monster_ ). Was it just me, or did her hair seem to get bigger when she was mad? "Fred, I don't know what the hell your problem is, but you don't know a thing about me!" she shouted straight into my slightly sore face.

"Oh, really?" I asked.

"What's my favourite colour?" she snapped. "How do I like my tea? _How old am I_?"

I opened my mouth to snap back at her … but my mind was blank. I couldn't answer any of those questions. That couldn't be right. I knew her too well, that was why I was throwing her out, right? I mean, I knew lots of stuff about her! I knew that when her hair dried naturally after a shower, it went even frizzier than normal. I knew that she was sensitive around her neck and that there was a spot on her collar bone that she liked being kissed and occasionally bitten. I knew that she _really_ liked my hands and that we both struggled to be the one in control ("For god's sake, let me be on top for once!"). I knew that she didn't like being tickled (I learned that the hard way by accidentally getting her in the side and receiving a resulting kick to the balls … that had killed the mood) and that she had a burn scar on her right thigh from when she had tried hot waxing as a teenager and got the spell wrong.

But shit, _how old was she_?

"Um … I want to say twenty ffff – no, um, twenty thrrrrr …?"

"Exactly," Emma said, folding her arms in triumph. "So quit being an idiot and kiss me already."

Fuck. Can't get around that logic.

Later, as my hands caressed at her bare back and she kissed my neck in that oh-so-beautiful way of hers, I asked,

"For the record – seriously, how old are you?"

Emma just made a non-committal sound against my skin.

"Shut up, Bonehead."

* * *

And things were ok.

More or less.

"You are NOT ok!" my sister ever-so-helpfully pointed out for me at one point near the end of November. "You're not telling me that you're still seeing that chick with the frizzy hair?"

"I'm not seeing her, shut up!"

"But you are sleeping with her, yes?"

"It's not the same as going out," I said, throwing a look at Roxanne's head from over the family dinner table.

"Roxie, I hardly think I need to hear about my children's exploits over food," Mum chimed in from over at the oven. "If you would be so kind as to change the topic."

"No, Mum, you don't get it!" Roxanne cried, almost toppling her chair over in her dash to Mum's side. I just groaned and pelted her with bits of carrot from across the kitchen that I was supposed to be chopping. "This is Fred, I don't think he's ever been in a committed relationship in his life – oi, stop that–!" She batted a carrot from her head, deflecting it so far across the room that it landed in the fish tank, much to the surprise of the fish. "–I really think something's wrong with him if he's sleeping with the same girl."

"No, seriously! Any time you want to drop this is fine by me," Mum said sweetly, ignoring Roxanne's insistent tugging of her robes.

"I agree whole-heartedly!" I added, flinging another carrot.

Unfortunately, that one hit Mum. She spun around and threw both of us a glare worthy of Grandma Molly (and there was a terrifying woman if you ever met one – not afraid to admit that). "Fred! Either eat those carrots or continue chopping them – if I see another flying, you won't have anything left to throw them with. Roxanne! Leave your brother's personal life alone, he is free to have a relationship with whomever he likes."

" _It's not a relationship_!"

"Fine," Mum sighed. "He is free to _not_ have a relationship with whomever he likes. I can't believe I'm saying this …" she added, turning back to the sauce pot on the stove.

Roxanne huffed against the kitchen bench, folding her arms. Then, a second later, she perked up and said,

"Dad'll agree with me! He'll think that your brain needs checking," she literally poked her tongue out at me. Baby. "Mum, where is he?"

"Your father's sleeping," Mum answered, softly.

Immediately, Roxanne wilted. I glanced back down and hastily started chopping carrots again. Even my insane sister knew when to stop. Everyone in this house knew what 'sleeping' was code for. I mean, Dad probably was sleeping, but not very fitfully. He suffered from depression, so this was probably a bad day for him. Apparently the death of his twin brother years before I was born was a blow to the stomach that he'd never quite recovered from. Despite having a cheerful, cheeky outside, George Weasley often had days when he couldn't even get out of bed. There's only so much potions and medication can do, in the end. I wasn't supposed to know all this technically; Roxanne and I had never actually been told, but we'd heard far too many whispers from the rest of the family over the years to not know by now. I think Mum knew that we understood, even if it had never been outright explained, even at this age, but we had always respected our dad's worse days. As kids we knew not to scream and run around and generally be a pain in the arse like usual. One time, I remember Roxanne and I inching into his and Mum's room, crawling into bed with him and just lying there for a majority of the day. I knew that he'd stopped taking anything for it years back because the side-effects had been even worse than the actual condition. Honestly, to me he was just my dad and it was a part of who he was … but I wish it didn't have to be.

Life just fucking sucks sometimes.

Maybe that's why Mum insisted that Roxanne and I come and have dinner at home tonight. Sometimes it helps Dad to know that his family's nearby. Other times it just makes him feel worse, but we try at least. Roxanne hugged Mum's arm in way of apology, before loudly talking about a new client she'd just received at work. Cover up the awkward, that's Roxanne – she's worse than James at dealing with tough emotions sometimes.

"That reminds me!" Roxanne continued, getting her mischievous smirk back. "We're having another beauty expo in time for Christmas, Fred! Usually it's a no-brainer that you wanna come, buuuut …" she just raised an eyebrow at me.

"Shut up, I'm coming!" I demanded at once.

"What about your _darlin'_?"

"Fuck her, and fuck you! I'M COMING!" I cried.

"I don't know why I bother," Mum sighed from the kitchen bench.

I know that Roxanne's beauty expos doesn't exactly sound like my kinda thing, but you'd be surprised! Roxanne worked as a beauty therapist for a huge salon located in Diagon Alley with about ten other branches scattered across the UK. Every now and then they would throw together a large lifestyle expo, selling products I couldn't pronounce and offering 10-Galleons-off facials or some shit like that. I couldn't have cared less about getting my legs waxed at such events, but you know who does? _Hot girls_.

Who I care about very, very much.

I used to have to beg Roxanne to let me in as a set-up volunteer. "Honestly, you're only ever in these things for the women, why should I let you come and deface my own gender like that?" she would complain. But I think she found a kind of grudging sense in the idea or something, because in the end she'd apparently realised that over the years, I'd actually learnt a lot from her rambles about beauty therapy and actually knew what I was talking about. The fact that I wasn't bad-looking either helped rake in clients! … so now, she reluctantly lets me in.

The second my words had come out of my mouth, though, I had kind of faltered. I sleep around, but I don't screw over. I'm usually pretty straight up in my intentions and hey, if whoever I'm with doesn't get that, only then will you find me trying to leg it out a window at four in the morning! So for a brief second, my mind went to Emma.

But like I said – BRIEF SECOND. She doesn't matter. It's fine. Move along to something _important_ now, please.

So after having dinner with my family (well, most of my family) and knocking gently on my dad's door to tell him that I was glad to have come and y'know, all that shit, I went away with the date written on my hand and Roxanne's sceptical look in my head. I promptly ignored that look every single time it came into my head (GO AWAY, Sceptical Sister!) and I also ignored the fact that eventually, Emma figured out that something was going on.

I'll admit that most of the time, I owled Emma first. She usually came, I can only remember once or twice that she's sent back no, she didn't feel like it. I'd tried not to be so annoyed at her in those moments ( _it's fair enough, stop acting disappointed, you loser_ ). This time, she had messaged me. Usually, we tried to be subtle about it, in case some nosy person decided to read my mail (JAMES), something along the lines of:

 _Yo, Princess –  
_ _Wanna come storm my castle?  
_ _Sorry, that was a lame one.  
_ – _F_

Which she usually replied back to with an equally punny one-liner which either made me groan or laugh when I read it. I mean, I didn't laugh THAT much … but still. Today's message had in contrast, been short and to the point:

 _Bonehead –  
_ _Can I come fuck you after work?  
_ _Many thanks,  
_ – _Em_

Which had been unexpected, but uh, YEAH OKAY.

She was late though, which was why I was about to catch her outside in the hallway, since I was in the middle of arguing with my neighbour across the hall as something to do. Mrs Ramsey was some senile old lady who I think was older than this entire building and for some reason, had taken it upon herself to hate me. She was a witch and often wore old robes over her nightdress, although I think most people thought she just wore a dressing gown 24/7. She always found SOMETHING to complain about, whether it was I was being too loud, or that my continuous stream of 'friends' was irritating her.

"– look, I couldn't give a shit about your dog!" I yelled, the tiny rat-like thing yapping at Mrs Ramsey's feet. "In my opinion, if it's small enough to fit into a handbag, it's not a dog!"

"You are hurting Otis' feelings!" Mrs Ramsey said back.

"I couldn't give a fuck about Otis' feelings!" I cried, throwing my hands in the air. " _It's not a dog_!"

"Well, stop leaving your rubbish outside your front door and Otis wouldn't be tempted to eat any of the disgusting filth that you own!" Mrs Ramsey said, the curlers in her grey hair askew in her temper. "It's already made her so sick –"

"I've already told you, it's my life, I can do what I like!"

"Not when it's affecting residents outside your own little world inside that flat!" Mrs Ramsey accused.

"Well –!"

"Fred?"

We both turned at the name. Emma stood there, obviously straight from work and watching us yell at each other with a bemused expression. Mrs Ramsey scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"So where did you find this one then, hmmm?" she demanded. "Do yourself a favour, girl!" she called over at Emma. "Don't go anywhere near him! He's a menace to society, and you ain't the first girl he's brought home, let me tell you!"

"Oh, don't worry, I know," Emma, the crazy woman, seemed to actually be _grinning_. Honestly, I thought the feat was quite impossible within the presence of Mrs Ramsey!

My senile neighbour seemed to be thinking along the same lines as me, for the first time since I moved in. "Bit early in the evening for this, isn't it?" she mentioned to me. "Normally you wake me up with banging and thrashing about at some ungodly hour of the morning!"

"Ah, c'mon Mrs Ramsey, you know I only ever do things to please you," I told her. I threw out an arm and tucked Emma under it. If she thought there was anything weird about being hauled into my side, she didn't show it. She leaned in, watching this exchange with Mrs Ramsey with keen interest.

My neighbour was apparently in a delightful mood, however. It was one of those times where life is grand and everything is hilarious.

"I hate you," she said.

"Love you too, GRANDMA!" I said back, knowing the endearment pissed her off, since she didn't actually have any children or grandchildren of her own. To top it off, I suddenly swung Emma down into a dip and kissed her hard right in front of Mrs Ramsey. Emma let out a slight squawk of surprise and I yanked her back to her feet before she could physically maim me in some way (although I didn't put it past her to get her revenge later – I swear to you that the girl has an evil streak in her somewhere).

"… what the bloody hell was that 'bout?" Emma asked, voice a little astonished as I eventually slammed my front door behind us.

"Crazy neighbour, doesn't approve of my lifestyle, has a demon-dog," I shrugged, pulling my jumper off as I walked casually for my room.

"Demon-dog?"

"She _says_ it's a teacup-Chihuahua, but I'm fairly certain that it is in fact the reincarnation of the devil," I said. I looked back over my shoulder to see where she was shaking her head, taking off her jacket.

"Right, so just your average crazy neighbour, then?"

"You got it! So we doing this or what?"

"I'm here for a reason, right?" Emma smirked at me. She pulled off her tie.

How the hell did I find this woman?

* * *

I don't know why I felt guilty.

Emma and I are basically nothing. No, seriously! I know they say that casual relationships are always doomed for failure because someone always ends up developing feelings. Someone always ends up wanting more. But that just wasn't how Emma and I worked, ok? We slept together sometimes, it was no big deal. Rather unfortunately, I kept thinking about my intentions to go to Roxanne's beauty expo, like I do every fucking time, and even more unfortunately, I couldn't seem to get it out of my head!

And it was starting to piss me off.

Emma was currently sprawled out next to me, trying to get her breath back with a shaky sigh that blew her wild hair out of her face. The bare skin of her side was pressed against me and she still had a leg casually thrown over mine. While my mind whirled a hundred miles an hour (which, let me assure you, wasn't normal for post-mind-blowing-sex) Emma looked like she had just been struck dumb.

"You – _damnit_ , that was good," she mentioned, lightly.

"Sure," I grunted.

Emma gave me a weird look. "You know, I don't think I'll ever understand you and your moods, Bonehead."

"For god's sake, stop calling me Bonehead!" I complained.

"Well, maybe if ya stopped slammin' me into things, I might," Emma countered right on back. "I swear you made me see stars from last time with the door!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you," I said exasperatedly. I eyed her for a moment before hesitantly adding on, "I mean, like, unless you're into that kinda thing –"

" _Nooooo_."

"No, definitely, of course!" I said, hastily. "No sadism or masochism, noted for the future."

"I mean, there's a difference between passionately shovin' me against a wall, as opposed to actually hurtin' me," Emma's eyes sparked. "Let's try and keep ourselves out of the Emergency Department and save any future concussions, yeah? It might get a bit awkward if we have to somehow explain this to Rose at work."

"How come I can imagine that conversation?" I muttered. I could literally see Rose's raised eyebrow, quill poised on her clipboard as she came across us both at the hospital, trying to justify why exactly we were both walking a little funny.

"Your cousin's a riot," Emma mentioned, simply.

This was starting to get into conversation-territory, which simply wasn't ok after increasingly satisfying sex with her. I jostled her head, which she protested against with a scowl, as I hauled myself upright.

"I'm going to go to this beauty expo of my sister's."

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, FRED?

I don't know what the hell was wrong with me. MATE, what are you thinking? Emma didn't say anything for quite a while as I hastily stood basically for something to do, trying to find any kind of clothing to throw back on. Eventually, she sat up so that she could meet my gaze, curling up with my duvet. Why did she look so comfy?

"Fred, if you've got something to tell me, I won't judge …" she grinned.

"Fuck off," I threw back at her.

"Just sayin'! A beauty expo? Sounds kinda divine," she sighed. "Tell me, you planning on getting your legs waxed? Because if so, does that mean I don't have to shave mine anymore?"

"My sister's salon is one of the stalls, it's on every few months," I explained exasperatedly, not even bothering to address her teasing. She could literally do whatever the hell she wanted with her legs, whether that was shaving them or letting them grow into hairy beasts ( _I'd still fuck her_ ). "I help set-up, hand out flyers, promote her salon, that kind of thing."

"Uh-huh," Emma stretched like a cat, pushing her linked hands into the air. I averted my eyes. BOXERS! Where were they? "So what's in it for you?"

"What makes you think there's something in it for me?"

"Well, considering what I know about you so far, the world of beauty doesn't really seem to be your thing unless it's to attract the ladies," Emma said. There they were! I snatched up my boxers from the floor under my desk, pulling them on hastily.

"You got me!" I rolled my eyes, turning my back on her. "I help out, typically because of all the women who think it's hot that I'm straight and also know the difference between mascara and eyeliner."

"So why're you telling me about it?" Emma asked.

I didn't move. I didn't want to see the expression on her face. Quite honestly, I didn't know why I was telling her. Maybe it was because a part of me wondered what kind of reaction I was going to get; whether she would be angry at the thought of me sleeping with other people, or whether she wouldn't care. Another part of me also wondered what reaction I _wanted_ to get. I didn't know what to tell her, so I told her the truth (which admittedly, I don't do very often).

"I don't know."

Emma was silent. Then, I heard the rustle of covers and a thump as she apparently crawled out of bed and made her way over to me. I nearly jumped when I felt her arms wind around my waist from behind, but I couldn't give her the satisfaction. Her body was still deliciously naked and burned where she pressed up against mine, despite the fact how comically short she was. I never usually went for women who were that much shorter than me, just because of the logistics and anatomy of the whole thing, but the top of Emma's head only just reached my chin. Despite annoying me like it normally did, I found that the pluses more or less outweighed the minuses, even if it did mean we had to give up on shower sex after that first time (while I found that I could lift her for a while, it was just a fucking killer on the legs). She could almost reach my neck, but settled for reaching up and kissing my shoulder instead. Damnit.

"I reckon I do know," she murmured. "but let's not think about it."

"Weeeelp, this evening got strange," I mentioned, trying not to shudder as her kisses spread across my shoulder, aiming for my neck. She paused at my words.

"You're not going to try and kick me out like last time, right?"

I loosened her grip around me so that I could turn around in her arms. I kissed her fucking properly then, hands in her hair and no thinking required. Just sex. JUST SEX, OK?

"Nah."

* * *

A/N: For the record, I would have mentioned that Fred is 'mostly' straight, but it wasn't the right time for that conversation. It doesn't really have any effect on the plot at all, but my personal headcannon is that Fred is about 90% straight, 10% not, usually all about Da Ladieez but tends not to be picky. :)

Also, I should have probably all warned you back in the first chapter that about 99% of the time writing this story, I didn't have a fucking clue what was going to happen. I'm still trying to figure out the ending. So I'm going to apologise in advance if you're ever reading this and at some point you literally have to wonder, 'Does Moon even know what she's doing?' ... truth is, I probably don't, haha.

AND THANK YOU SO MUCH for your support so far! Seriously, I hope you enjoyed this as well. :)  
Please review, they are my light, my sunshine, my ... you get it. Let me know what you think! Until next time -

\- Moon. :D

PS. Also, I am on Da Tumblr as moonprincess92nz. If you want, come find me!


	3. That one time I gave up control

That One Time I Fell In Love.  
(And other impossible things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 3: That one time I gave up control.

We ended up in a kind of routine.

I know that doesn't exactly scream 'casual' but I swear it worked! ( _Well, it didn't, but I'll get to that_ ). Every few days one of us would end up sending an owl – I kept writing stupid punny one-liners, and Emma kept scoffing at them, but coming over anyway. Usually, it was after she finished work and I got really used to getting her out of that uniform. Sometimes, it was when I'd had a particularly rough day and couldn't be bothered actually going out to find someone else to be with (admittedly, I couldn't remember the last time I went out. It had to be like last week or something, right?).

"Work was a fucking nightmare. That's all that needs to be said about today!" I'd say as a greeting.

"Seriously, what the hell IS your job?" Emma would ask once more.

I would just laugh and wave a hand. "Princess, _please_."

And she would always come to my place, never hers. I'm not entirely sure why that ended up becoming a part of what we did, since I really couldn't have cared less where we did it. However, I had suggested once going to hers, mainly because I'd been in the middle of cleaning and my place looked like a bloody bombsite, but she'd utterly refused.

"Emma, EMMA–" I'd yelped as she'd shoved me back onto my sofa, currently decorated with washing I hadn't got round to and leftovers from last night's dinner. I'd crashed into the mess, cringing. "we are LITERALLY about to do it on a pile of dirty dishes!"

She'd simply climbed on top of me and ignored the empty plate that nearly hit me in the head as she did so. She'd nipped at my lips before soothing with her tongue, hands pulling me into her tightly. My moan was a contradictory mix of arousal and disgust. "Can't be any dirtier than you are," she'd muttered into my mouth.

Yeah, ok.

So we stuck to our routine and it was fine. It was good. I didn't have to think around her, and _it was easy_ (easier than I thought it would be). But then there was that one time it wasn't planned or invited. I'd been on the verge of sending her an owl that evening, when I realised that she'd actually been over the previous day … and the day before that as well. That simply wasn't ok! So I'd sent my weird little owl, Ravi, a harsh look and told him, "Whatever you do, don't let me send anything!"

He'd hooted back at me before falling backwards off his perch. I swear that owl is permanently drunk.

But not even an hour later, there was a knock at my door.

"… just don't ask," she said.

She slammed the door shut, before storming forward and kissing me furiously.

My brain was kind of still in _wait, what?_ mode and normally I wouldn't complain. We tended to get a little rough with each other sometimes, but her intensity was suddenly throwing me off. This wasn't rough, this was desperate. She never left my lips as she reached back and stripped her coat off, letting it drop to the floor to pool at our feet. When she reached up to hold my head to hers, I felt her hands trembling. I kissed her back but apparently, it wasn't good enough for her. She jumped, wrapping her legs around my waist, and I stumbled in half surprise.

"Fucking Jesus – warn me, next time!" I muttered into her lips.

"Sorry."

"You gonna tell me what this is 'bout?"

"No."

"Ok."

It was like she was trying to occupy me as much as possible so that she didn't have to think. Hell, I could barely think! She didn't seem to want to bother with the bedroom and with her grinding her hips into mine like that, I couldn't be bothered either. I started towards the sofa, wondering why she felt so cold when usually she was scolding. She was sucking on my neck and bit my ear, causing me to fall rather ungraciously onto the sofa. She'd climbed into my lap before I could even consider the fact that not even ten minutes ago, I was eating a packet of jammy dodgers and wondering whether it could count as dinner. We got mostly out of our clothes, but by the time she was collapsed over me, wraps still wrapped around my neck (convenient that I couldn't see her face?) my trousers were still half around my legs, and her shirt was unbuttoned with the tie still on. I trailed my hands up and down her thighs, wondering if she was going to stay a moment, or whether she would get up and leave as abruptly as she'd arrived.

"I apologise if I choked you slightly there, your tie was in the way," I said, lightly.

Emma snorted with laughter before groaning slightly into my neck. "Ah … shit, shit, _shit_. I'm sorry."

"Hey, I did the choking!"

"I'm fine, Fred," Emma leaned back slightly in my lap so that she could actually pull her tie off properly. Once she threw it onto the floor, she accidentally caught my eye for a second. Then, she gave a real groan as she unfortunately hauled herself off me and flopped onto the sofa instead. I moved and slumped down so that our heads were fairly level and bumped hers with mine.

"I know we're not big on talking," I mentioned. "But seriously … _what the actual fuck was that_?"

"I might've had a rough day," Emma said.

"No, shit," I snorted. "C'mon, explain!"

Emma swung her head to the side to throw me a look.

"Look, Princess, you can't just turn up out of the blue, shag me senseless on my sofa, then pretend nothing's wrong. Even I can see through that load of bollocks."

"If I share, wouldn't we be getting to know each other?" Emma pointed out.

"I want to know why your apparent therapy for getting over today includes fucking me with no warning!" I pressed. "I mean, c'mon."

Emma sighed, folding her arms across her still-open shirt. It was one of the few articles of clothing she still had on.

"I had a run-in with my ex."

"Ah."

That should've been enough. I mean, I've been with enough girls to know that when they're trying to get over someone, you're basically inconsequential. I never really cared, I got sex out of it and that's all I wanted. I didn't ask questions and neither did they. I didn't want to deal with Emma's shit, I had enough shit of my own! Father was chronically depressed, my family was the WEASLEY'S who are all well known for being fucking insane, and yeah, maybe Libby was onto something when she'd jokingly scoffed _commitment issues_ at me once. See my point? But this was a girl I'd been sleeping with for roughly a month now. As much as I was dying to just leave that statement where it was, I felt myself growing sick with the obligation to ensure that she was, y'know, _ok_ or whatever.

"Yeah," Emma's face was as dark as a storm. "I wasn't expecting it, so it kinda shook me. Tha's all."

"I take it he was a dickhead, then?"

"He was emotionally abusive and cheated on me," she said, shortly.

… fuck.

"Wow," I ended up saying, which was probably the stupidest thing that could've come out of my mouth. I mean, what the hell do you even say to that? "So, uh … yeah, he was a dickhead then?"

"Dickhead doesn't cover it."

"Are you …" I hesitated. "Did he hurt you?"

"Not today. I didn't let him."

"But back when you were together …"

"He never hit me, or nothin' like that if that's what you mean," Emma sighed. "Physically, I'm fine. But he was manipulative and basically a terrible person … Fred, there's a reason I'm not looking for something serious."

This was weird. I had gotten so used to the crazy Emma who yelled at me for accidentally breaking the zip on her trousers, or teased me about my union jack boxers. Emma the bloody sass monster with far too much confidence and I swear, a licence to kill! But the Emma currently sitting slumped on my sofa had been drained of life. It was the Emma I think I'd first slept with, the one who giggled nervously in my bed and couldn't meet my eyes. I'd been so consumed over the last couple of weeks that I think I'd forgotten she hadn't always been that wild-child Emma. I'd seen a spark of it ten minutes ago when she was wrapped around me, but now …

I didn't like it. And I couldn't tell you if I didn't like the fact that Emma was obviously distressed, or whether it was because I didn't like it that I didn't like it! Which I assure you, makes sense in my head. I coughed awkwardly before averting my eyes and glancing anywhere but at her.

"Did you … I dunno … wanna have sex again, or somethin'?"

Thank the lord, Emma laughed.

"Sure," she sniggered.

* * *

The moment she'd left my flat, I'd sent an owl to my sister telling her that I was definitely coming to her beauty expo. I ended up debating and wavering about it for the next few weeks, but Emma had confessed something deep and personal and while I didn't blame her at all for it ( _I learned she's fucking human, fight me_ ) it had gotten just a little too close for my liking! Judge all you want, but all the sex in the world wasn't convincing me in that this was any less of a RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™. We had an arrangement of sorts, but we weren't in any way exclusive. What the hell even _is_ exclusive? So damn it, I was going to show that ridiculous girl with the wild hair that I didn't care. NOPE, DIDN'T CARE AT ALL.

I cared … but again, we handle that later.

"Oh, god. You're back?" one of the girls who worked with Roxanne said flatly the moment she saw me arrive. If I remember correctly, her name was Rachel and I don't think I've ever slept with her, although considering her contemptuous expression, I may be wrong about that. Probably better that I don't ask for clarification though. She might be mad that I forgot.

"Hell yeah, Fred's back!" I called out with a smirk. I held out the volunteer badge on the lanyard around my neck and said, "See? Official and everything!"

"I think I need to have a word with Roxie about letting you into these things," Rachel rolled her eyes. "In the meantime … get your wand out. We have a lot of tables to set up. Oh, and here's your complimentary Santa hat!" She tossed a red and white pom-pomed hat at my chest, forcing me to catch it. "And the answer is YES, you have to wear it."

Eh, small price to pay.

The next two hours were spent decorating the entire events hall for the Christmas-themed 'Health and Lifestyle Expo' which we all know is a fancy term for make-up and shit. The hall was surprisingly not concealed in Diagon Alley or somewhere similar, which admittedly wasn't rare these days. Our world seemed to be ever expanding and I'm fairly certain we're going to take over the entire city at some point (don't try and convince me it's not the Ministry's eventual plan). The hall was located in London's warehouse district, the only thing preventing Muggles from strolling inside being mostly a lack of advertising, and a few anti-Muggle Charms. The hall was big enough to accommodate about three separate Quidditch games and quite honestly, it did look rather spectacular when we were finished with it. Soon, the place was crawling with mostly witches, either trying to get good deals for Christmas, spending a day out with the girlfriends or getting a full-body massage by someone who actually knew what they were doing, rather than just aiming a spell at yourself and hoping for the best.

Roxanne had handed me an entire stack of flyers for her salon and ordered me to start handing them out. "You might as well make yourself useful at this thing, Dogbreath," she'd told me with a roll of her eyes. I'd accepted, mainly because I didn't want her to kick me out, and also because my only other option was to be assistant to Rachel and the other girls (yeah, ok, so waxing freaks me out! Can you blame me?). The hall was packed with hundreds of people, Christmas carols blaring through speakers about reindeers and holy nights while girls shoved, trying to reach stalls. Miniature Father Christmas's flew above heads on tiny brooms, calling out the occasional, 'Ho, ho, ho!' or advertising jingle. Other expo volunteers like me were yelling out their stalls, and I elbowed another volunteer out of my way when he got too into my territory for my liking (what? You want some, you got to take this shit seriously!).

"Head to _Exquisite Salon_ , stall number 17!" I called out to a rather well-endowed girl at one point, handing a flyer to her. "Free consultation and currently half-off facials! Not that you need one, darlin'," I added.

"Oh?" the girl said, exchanging a look with her friend.

"Although," I mentioned, throwing her the cheeky smile. "I might be able to throw in one for free. Just ask for Roxanne, and tell her Fred sent you."

"Well, who're we to reject such an offer?" the girl laughed with her friend. "C'mon, apparently we've got an appointment at _Exquisite_."

They turned and grinned back at me as they went on their way, and I made a mental note to buy my sister chocolate or something after all this. Yeah, maaaaybe I kind of owed her! I winked at the girl and her friend, before turning away and calling out to the next group of girls that I saw.

"Hey, beautiful!" I held a flyer for the one who was the closest. "Head on down to _Exquisite_ –"

She turned around.

"– oh, FUCK," I exclaimed.

"What is it with our family and accidental incest?" Rose mentioned.

" _You're_ here? Oh, Jesus–" Naturally, that was when I noticed the rest of the girls with my cousin. Jesus Christ. Of course Emma was just one of them, along with Libby, Bea and another close friend of Rose's that if I remember correctly was called Sophie. While I knew the others, I admittedly didn't know Sophie very well, only the story really of how she ended up becoming associated with the insane group known as Rose's friends in the first place (she was Scorpius' ex-girlfriend, having been together while he and Rose were mad at each other or something. I don't know, I was on Rose's side out of family loyalty throughout the entire thing, I didn't really care that much to be honest. All that matters now is that Rose and Scorpius got back together and Sophie and Rose ended up becoming good friends … go figure).

The others, though, I unfortunately knew far too much. Bea had been Rose's best friend since their first-year of Hogwarts and as such, had been around our family a long time (the fact that she was married to Al now helped). She was sweet, I suppose. I will confess that Libby was pretty fucking awesome, to the point where I even forgave her for somehow getting James to fall in love with her and resulting in losing my partner in crime! But then, there was Emma.

 _Blimey, Emma_.

I don't think anyone knew that we had a sort of thing going on, and I intended on keeping it that way. What the fuck was she doing here? She KNEW I was going to be here, I'd literally told her! I don't care that it was weeks ago since we'd had that discussion (not that it had been much of a discussion, if that's what you could call me blurting it out in between two rounds of incredible sex), SHE KNEW, GOD DAMNIT! And yet here she was, with a smile on her face and dressed in something other than her Cursebreaker uniform for a change … I didn't realise how much I liked that look until she was suddenly standing in front of me STILL LOOKING HOT SOMEHOW wearing jeans and an oversized-woolly jumper.

Merlin, Fred, don't fucking look at her.

"What are you DOING here?" I said to my cousin.

"What do you think, my dear Idiot Twin?" Rose answered. "I'm here to bond with my girls and lose myself in a sea of estrogen! Oh, and to get discounted lipstick."

"Yeah, it was a rare moment when none of us had to work this weekend," Libby added. "Found out this was on, so why not? Don't tell me, you're here to bang all the hot chicks, right?"

"You know me so well, Lib," I said, dryly.

Libby just laughed while my cousin looked disgusted. "Must you really encourage him?" Rose complained.

"Hey, Fred's my bro now!" Libby pointed out, moving to slap me a high-five. The girl really was nuts. "I accept him for who he is. Oh, you know all of us, right? Sophie – Emma–" She helpfully pointed them out and to avoid the awkward, I shook their hands with a smile.

"Yeah, Sophie, met you a couple times I think?" I asked.

"Yeah, you hit on me at Al and Bea's wedding," Sophie mentioned, lightly.

"I did?" I asked.

"What he means is that he flirts with so many people, he can barely remember who he's slept with," Rose rolled her eyes.

"Hey!"

"It's fine, I said no and I think you answered with, 'good call'," Sophie laughed.

"If it makes you feel better, I wouldn't have talked to you unless you were hot?" I said.

"Ok, stop flirting with my friends," Rose mentioned. "That's Emma, she's hot too, please don't flirt with her either, blah, blah, can we go look at lipstick now?"

"Hey, nice to meet you," I said, extending a hand to Emma.

She was trying to keep the humour of this odd introduction out of her eyes, though I noticed that she also kept the arm not held out to me crossed over her chest. She kept the smile, but her eyes flickered slightly towards Libby as she took my hand. FOR GOD'S SAKE, EMMA, I HAVE LITERALLY SEEN YOU NAKED, what in the hell was she trying to do to me here? She thankfully played along and shook my hand even as I was trying to silently ask her _what the fuck_ without actually SAYING _what the fuck_.

"Emma, nice to meet you too," she spoke to my chin. "You're friends with James, right?"

"Don't you know it–" I began in a growl, but that was when Libby interrupted.

"Yeeeah, I agree with Rose," she said. "Lipstick!"

"There's a stall with cheap stuff at the end of this aisle," I pointed out for them, exasperatedly.

Rose and the others all thanked me cheerfully, before heading out on their merry way. As they left, Emma glanced back and actually smirked. My mouth fell open. I glared and mouthed, " _What the hell?!_ " at her. She only shrugged before turning and laughing at something Libby had said.

I was going to kill her.

I couldn't even concentrate after that. The Christmas carols annoyed the crap outta me to the point where NO, I didn't give a flying fuck about Santa, baby and I thrust flyers into unwilling hands, saying flatly, " _Exquisite_. Stall 17. They don't pay me enough for this." I didn't even care that the bloke from several stalls down was trying to move in on my territory again. Just what was Emma's plan in even coming here? To mess with my mind? Well, she was doing a mighty fine job! FUCK HER. I was out of patience. She could get lost in this sea of squealing women and discount hair-products for all I cared.

"Wow. They've really got ya workin' at this thing, huh?"

"YOU!" I whirled around. "I could kill you–!"

"Buuuut, you won't," Emma grinned. "because picking up hot chicks is what you're here for, amiright?"

"Oh, NOW you're smirking at me?" I scowled. "Piss off, Emma. What is your deal?"

"I can't have some fun?"

"Not when you're clearly trying to get a rise outta me or something, I don't even fucking know anymore!" I said. "You knew I'd be here! They could've found out!"

"Found out what? That we're a thing?" Emma mentioned, lightly. "That would mean actually acknowledging that we're a thing in the first place, so that sure as hell wasn't going to happen, was it?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

But I suppose that I did actually know what that meant. We didn't talk about this, whatever it was. Because it wasn't even worth it. It wasn't a thing! It was just a … a … someone I had the odd sexual encounter with! Or maybe occasionally … ok, fine, regularly, WHATEVER. It didn't count. We didn't make a big deal out of it and we didn't talk about it because it was barely something to even talk about, that's the point I was trying to make. If she was talking about it being a thing, then it had definitely gone far enough.

But wait.

Why was she even bringing this up NOW? Out of the blue, suddenly _testing_ me or something, trying to see what reaction she'd get from me in front of her mates? Emma didn't care how we defined this! Or at least I thought she didn't. The only thing I could think of that might have rattled her lately was that run-in with her ex she mentioned a couple of weeks ago, but that would be stupid of her. You're not telling me that that douchebag actually got to her so much that she was questioning whatever our thing was?

Damn it, IT'S NOT A THING, FRED.

Well, fuck that guy.

"Never mind. I know what meant. _Oh, heyyyyy,_ " I sent her a very obvious once over as if I'd only just noticed she was there standing in front of me. "Outta all the girls in here, I've zeroed in on you, beautiful. Wanna get out of here?"

Emma snorted. "The others think I'm in the bathroom, Bonehead, even I can't be that obvious."

"I could be in the bathroom with you?"

I felt somewhat satisfied that I got Emma to laugh out loud at that. "How long has your sister got you working here for?"

"Until I check out or she gets annoyed with me, whichever comes first."

She grinned.

"I'll see you in an hour."

That was better.

* * *

Christmas is a weird time of the year. Work always seemed to pick up for me around Christmas. People go crazy, start wrestling each other for the last box of chocolates and will buy ten fake wands from a joke shop because they can't think of individual presents to get for each of their nieces and nephews. The last couple years, Christmas hadn't been a good day for Dad, but this year we got lucky! Christmas usually involved a Weasley Family Reunion, which goes about as fucking apeshit as it sounds. Roxanne will bring along her new boyfriend and talk about him non-stop (the guy will never be seen again after this day), Max will run around pulling down everyone's trousers, and Rose and Scorpius will get into a fight over something. James brought Libby this year and everybody just totally accepted it now, like James with a girlfriend was no big deal! WRONG. I mean, I get that nothing really phases this family, but _seriously_? It took me years to get over it, how could everyone just shrug it off so damn quickly?

I still remembered the day that James and I fought over the fact that he was with Libby. It was months ago, way before I'd even met Emma and back when James and Libby had first started going out. I'd been kind of avoiding him so that I wouldn't go crazy and yell, but James was utterly determined to make me like his new girlfriend. Libby and I had ended up spending the entire day together, which had been a new experience. Here was a woman that I _wasn't_ trying to shag, we barely knew each other at this point and we were being forced to hang out! What the hell was I supposed to even do?

It had been kind of awkward at first, but it's no secret that I love Libby now. She had soon got me straightened out over ice cream that day, despite the fact that I don't even like the stuff. I'd complained that I had no idea what we were supposed to do all day, since I didn't really entertain woman when it was light out. And as we'd walked down Diagon Alley, Libby had asked me,

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"No," I'd answered at once. "I love my life."

"But doesn't it get tiring?" Libby had said, far too much eagerness in her voice for someone I barely knew. "I mean, I get it, I've had a few wild flings in my day, but doesn't it get, I don't know, boring after a while?"

"I have no interest whatsoever in having a ' _relationship_ '," I'd quoted fingers at her, an ice cream I didn't even want in my hands. "To me, they are boring. You're with the same person constantly, all the bloody time!"

"I know! It's great!" Libby had said, happily.

For god's sake. I still believed the same thing today and explained my reasoning's to Libby. She'd seemed to like arguing with me over it and I could pretty much see the accusation in her eyes of _you've never even given it a shot – how do you know you don't like it?_ But that's the thing, I didn't WANT to give it a shot! Relationships weren't my thing and they still aren't! Fuck who you like, but don't try and make me do something I didn't want to do! I mean, that was back when I was an idiot and a hypocrite, since I wanted my wingman back and was more than willing to tell him what to do. But I hadn't realised how much James had actually changed over the years. I'd been watching him slowly fall in love with this insane woman without realising it until it was too late. I mean, the bloke literally got the phrase 'Jabby' tattooed on his arse for her (I KID YOU NOT).

In the end, I asked her if she loved him.

"Yeah," she'd said, finally. Her smile had been enough. "I think I do."

Which had been enough to make me like her, at least. For something to do, we ended up doing touristy things that day, pretending that we'd never been to London before and hitting up the attractions that people typically associate with the place. We'd squeezed onto a London Eye carriage and got the bird's eye view of the city, which admittedly had been pretty cool, even if we did have to fight for a view at the window.

"I think I can see our building from here!" Libby had grinned out the window.

"Really? I think it's raining so much it's hard to tell," I'd mentioned.

"Aw, use your imagination, Fred," Libby had grinned, elbowing me in the side. "Can you see where you live from here? You're closer to James' place than mine, right?"

"Not that it matters, since he spends every waking moment with you now," I'd grumbled.

"You're cute," Libby had smirked. "I mean, seriously, you've _never_ been in love before? Like EVER?"

"Nope!" I'd said, proudly. "Never have, never will!"

"Oh, c'mon, you can't say that," Libby had mentioned. "You don't know the future. Beside, you must've at least had feelings for a girl at some point."

"I dunno, I don't really think about it," I'd shrugged, staring out the window. Actually, I think I could see my building from here. "I mean, I'm not made of stone. I've probably liked someone before. You know when I was like, 12 or something. Typically I try and just ignore it, though. I've never even slept with the same girl twice before."

"Seriously. Not even twice?"

"Nah. That's how you catch feelings."

"James caught feelings after one time," Libby had pointed out.

"Eh, true," I'd said. "He wouldn't stop going on about you, so I guess I can't deny that. But hasn't happened for me yet!"

"You don't think it ever will?"

"If it does, I know that's my cue to sleep with every woman in Greater London to shake myself out of it."

I'd said all this about eight months ago, and look where the bloody hell I ended up.

But I didn't have feelings for Emma. I barely even liked her! She was far too annoying, confusing and never let me just fuck her without talking. She just _had_ to get her two cents in! Whether it was making fun of my flamingo umbrella stand (which I'd gotten several years ago so that I could say it was Thai authentic … realistically, Lily had bought it for me) or telling me what to do to her, there was literally no shutting her up. I was going to have that cockney accent ingrained into my head for all eternity, thanks to her!

"So, present for the GF, then?"

"Roxie! Would you let it go? You don't know shit!" I hissed at her.

Roxanne threw me a look, having approached me while I stole all the sausage rolls from the table of never-ending food (it happens when my grandma starts cooking). The lounge of the Burrow was full of loud and singing Weasley's, all gathered together for general merriment and wayward drinking (I don't know what's funnier, witnessing the teasing that Uncle Percy still gets, or Aunt Hermione when she's drunk). Roxanne, however, was choosing this moment on Christmas Day to fucking rib me about Emma! HAVE I MENTIONED I HATE MY SISTER?

"I know that you've been sleeping with her the last two months," Roxanne smirked.

"You don't even know her name," I said.

"There's a point. What's her name?"

"Shut up! I'm not getting her a present, I'm not telling you her name, I'm probably never going to see her again now, so just drop it!"

Far from dropping it, Roxanne danced after me as I stormed away, hands full of sausage rolls. "What d'you mean you're never gonna see her again?" she yelled.

"Oh my god!" I whirled around in the kitchen doorway. We had to duck as a screaming Molly stormed past, followed by a laughing Uncle Charlie. Damnit, I wanted to know what happened there! "Roxie, would you shut up about this?"

"Why? It's not like you care, right?"

"No one's supposed to know about this! YOU don't officially know about this!"

"Yeah, but I can put two and two together," Roxanne grinned. "Seriously, what's up with not seeing her anymore?"

"It's insane! It's gone waaaay too far."

"But you can't dump her on Christmas," Roxanne pointed out.

"I'm not even dumping her! We're not together!" I pointed out. "Jesus, Roxie …"

"I'm just sayin', it's cold, even for you."

"She doesn't – fuck it, I don't need to explain to you," I grumbled.

"Okaaaay," Roxanne warbled cheerfully.

"Seriously, GET."

She at least listened to me and left to chase after her true-love-boyfriend somewhere in this mess of people. I compensated feeling weird by being overly louder than usual, which thankfully to my family comes off as normal. My chest was still tight with something though, even after everyone passed out due to overindulgence around midnight and eventually staggered home on boxing day with about three plastic containers of Grandma Molly's cooking. Got to hand it to the woman, she certainly knows how to bake. Emma had slowly been losing a spark of some kind over the last couple of weeks, and her showing up at Roxanne's beauty expo showed it. It was subtle, but it was clear that she had been in a funk since The Ex Incident and I didn't like it. She could be so much better than this weird, insecure Emma of late. So I had to do _something_ , because let's face it, I am kind of a dick to her most of the time. I kind of owed at least that much to her, right?

So it was almost a week later when I finally stopped debating over it and just sent a bloody owl:

 _Princess –_  
 _Christmas sucks. I can try make it better._  
 _Come round._  
– _F_

I expected her to turn up after work like usual. I mean, my hours are certainly a lot more erratic than Emma's and though today was my day off, if anything came up I'd have to unfortunately leap into action. So though I usually make it a sole duty to wear nothing but underwear and eat nothing but fried chicken on my days off, I was unfortunately fully dressed. I certainly wasn't anticipating anything for a good few hours, but I suddenly got a knock on my door at like, three in the afternoon. I glanced up from my sofa in confusion, before heading over to answer it.

"Well?" she raised an eyebrow once I flung open the door. "Where's my present?"

"What the hell're you doing here?" I asked.

"You invited me here, did you not?"

"Yeah – but like, this evening like normal!" I pointed out, even as Emma ducked under my arm and strolled on in casually.

"I requested this afternoon and tomorrow off since it's New Year's," she said.

"Wait, it is?"

"You don't even know what day it is?" Emma rolled her eyes. "Classic Bonehead."

"Oi!"

"Look, I came 'ere for a reason," she pointed out, folding her arms across her chest. "You said you could make my Christmas better, even though you're over a week late. Well, go ahead! Make it better."

"Fine," I huffed. "Your present is me–"

Emma just snorted loudly. "Hate to break it to ya, but you've done it a bit wrong. You're supposed ta be naked, and normally there's a bow somewhere."

"I hadn't finished!" I said, irritably. "Your present is me … however you want me. I'm letting you have control."

Emma scoffed at that like she didn't quite believe me. However, when I just challenged her with an expression of ' _what?_ ' she looked a bit more unsure. She couldn't say no to this. I swear up until recent events, about 80% of the time we spent together was just us arguing over who got to do what. If you looked up _Control Freak_ in the dictionary, all you would see under it is literally a photo of the two of us glaring at each other (or possibly wrestling!). We used to get around it by just constantly fighting each other, however lately I'd noticed Emma kind of pulling back. While it was nice occasionally for her to be the passive one, I'd had a moment of realising that it certainly wasn't what she needed right now if I ever wanted her to get her spark back. While the thought of giving up control completely and just letting her do whatever she wanted kind of freaked me out, I honestly wanted her to be confident Sass Monster Emma again. She might be more annoying and willing to call me out on my bullshit, but she was also more interesting, more adventurous and she was basically the reason the sex was any good in the first place! Soooo …

"You're … not serious?" she asked.

"Look, are you going sleep with me or not?" I sighed.

I think it took about two seconds for her to decide. Then, she kissed me.

It was the kind of kiss that hits you way deep down and sets your toes alight. She stood on tip-toe and yanked my head down to hers, threading her fingers in my hair. I'm still debating how Emma does this without even trying. I figured she would let go then, but instead she pulled closer, winding her arms around my neck, mouth opening and her lips burning like wildfire. Not that it wasn't fucking amazing, but my neck was starting to cramp up from being bent over her like this, so I tried pulling away. She protested and held on tighter.

"C'mon, Princess, this is killing my back–"

"So lift me," Emma grinned. "I'm in charge now, aren't I?"

Fine. Whatever.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and straightened, pulling her clean off her feet. I almost snorted at the motion; she really was comically short. She didn't seem to care too much though, humming contently in the back of her throat as she continued to kiss me, almost lazily. It was with long strokes of her tongue and slow calm breathing that messed with my head. She was fucking enjoying herself and I might've rolled my eyes if I hadn't been secretly liking it so much as well. I couldn't ever remember usually doing this sort of thing with her. I told myself it was typically because of the awkward height difference, but the thing was that there was also a strange kind of intimacy in just simply standing in my hallway, _kissing_. What we were doing could be taken as so innocent, yet it still managed to be as arousing as if she had her hands in my pants. Maybe she was onto something here?

"Mmm," Emma breathed. "Put me down?"

"I thought you were in charge?"

Emma pulled back and laughed. Her pale skin was flushed and blotchy and I twisted a curl of her hair around my finger.

"Ok then, I'm not asking, I'm telling – put me down!"

I let her slide down my torso until her toes touched back down on the floor. Kicking her shoes off, she grabbed my hand and beckoned that I follow. Oh, I did. In fact, I followed her all the way to my bedroom. I tried not to think about the fact that she had been there so many times now that she could apparently get there without even taking her eyes off me. I tended to be a bit of a freak in keeping it clean, a notion I don't think Emma shared if her tendency to throw clothes everywhere was any indication. I hated clutter and mess and I complained about as much every damn time, but I'd only managed to whine, " _Emmaaaa_ –" as she shucked her uniform robes off and tossed them on the floor, before she swung back and clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Nuh-uh, you can shut it this time!" she shot me a look. "A little mess never hurt anyone."

"But–" I muffled against her hand.

"No complainin'! Now take off your clothes."

"You know, I'm already starting to regret this," I pointed out. I tried to capture a finger and suck it into my mouth, but she pulled her hand away too quickly. When she simply plonked herself on the edge of my bed, crossing a perfectly tailored leg over the over and waiting impatiently, I grumbled and pulled at my shirt.

"You sure you don't want to do this?" I asked, voice muffled.

"Who's in charge, mate?"

"Just givin' pointers!"

"Trust me, I am ok over here," Emma smirked. "Wait, hey–!" she added once I had tugged it off and started folding my shirt. "For god's sake, just throw the damn thing! I'm going to be highly disappointed if at least some article of clothing doesn't end up on your lamp over there."

"You're having too much fun with this–" I threw my shirt in her face. She pulled it off, static making her hair crack.

"That's what I'm here for," she grinned.

Fine. If she wanted a show, she'd get a show! This wasn't the first time I'd done a striptease of some kind, but I realised that my heart was slamming so hard in my throat because this wasn't fucking midnight, there wasn't ridiculous music in the background and this wasn't some random girl I didn't know giggling on my bed as I gyrated my hips in front of her. But I immediately swallowed the uneasy feeling and looked her straight in the eye as I undid the button and fly of my trousers. I let them fall to the ground and kicked them up into my hands with a foot. "I s'pose you want me to throw these too?" I asked, swinging them around casually.

"I'm sorry, I'm too busy objectifying you to listen," Emma said, eye line somewhere around my crotch. Blimey, Emma. "D'you mind giving me a twirl? As much as I appreciate your effort, I like your arse a bit too much."

"Of course you do," I smirked. I swung my hips as I turned, throwing my trousers across my room.

Emma snorted at the involuntary wince on my face. "Don't worry, I promise I'll let you pick them up eventually.

"I can't believe I'm doing this for you."

"I can't believe you are either," Emma mentioned lightly. "Also, don't forget you have socks on. Can you even take off socks in a seductive way?"

"I can try–"

"Maybe it's best we skip that," Emma held up a hand and I rolled my eyes, instead bending down to just pull them off quickly. "but seriously, what's gotten into you? Can I expect this every holiday now?"

"Fuck off," I growled, moving towards her. I noticed that she uncrossed her legs and I invaded her space, stepping in between them. She glanced up casually, although I saw her visibly swallow. "As it turns out, I've kinda missed you bossing me around. You're weird when you don't fight me on shit."

"Oh, I'm always down to fight," Emma said.

"Not lately," I said, voice low. I reached out and cupped her neck, stepping in close enough that her body was pulled flush with mine. She would be able to feel every inch of me purposefully rubbing against her and I noticed that she didn't push me away.

"I guess I … forgot. But I think I'm starting to remember," Emma grinned up at me.

"Good. Fuck that guy."

"You know, I think I can take things from here," Emma reached down and tugged off my underwear in one swift motion. Then, she snaked up a hand to my shoulder, pulling me down so that she could crush her lips under mine. She made a sound in the back of her throat as I let my hands slide up into her hair and she wrapped her arms around my waist. Finally, _this_ was Emma. This was what I'd been missing, the reason I kept coming back to her in the first place, right?

I was probably leaning in too hard, but she didn't protest. In fact, she let us fall backwards onto my bed and both of us groaned as our bodies fell into each other. She had to feel how turned on I was. She pulled back suddenly and wordlessly beckoned as she moved further up my bed. I followed (BOY DID I FOLLOW) but right when I intended on getting back to where things were, she suddenly shoved on my chest. I was slammed into my mattress with a _phwoom_ and quite possibly squeaked as she straddled me.

I was suddenly reminded of my heart, which was still slamming in my throat to the point where it was almost painful. But damn it Fred, concentrate on the fact that this insane, incredibly hot woman was on fucking top of you! Maybe I was starting to regret this slightly. I mean, she has somehow gotten me completely naked and at her mercy while she was literally still wearing her tie. HER FUCKING TIE, I TELL YOU. She didn't seem to care about this fact though as she leaned down and licked my ear. In fact, she kept licking, all the way down the side of the neck before reaching my jaw and I shuddered, fingers digging into her hips. She followed my jawline, nipping at my chin before finally kissing my lips deeply. _Jesus Christ._ I immediately responded, reaching up to hold back her hair, which was tickling my face but she grabbed my wrists and suddenly pinned them to the duvet by my head.

" _Mmm_ – hey!" I gave a muffled protest. Instinctively I tried to break free, but Emma just fought back with a low growl. She was making it rather difficult as every time I moved she just tightened her thighs over my hips, consequently grinding against me. I didn't quite know why I was suddenly panicking at the thought of being held down like that. I'd given up this much for her already! But I think that was the point, in that I don't think I was quite capable of giving up the last shred of control I had left.

"Would you stop it!" Emma cried eventually, struggling to hold me in place.

"I can't help it! Let go of me –!"

"Stop being such a Bonehead," she sighed exasperatedly. "You said you would do what I wanted!"

"There's a difference between you being on top and you fucking holding me down!" I yelled. "Get off me!"

"Fred, STOP IT!" Emma cried. She still held my wrists, which I tugged at, but she glared straight at me and those blue eyes shot down deep into my … fuck, everything, really. "Seriously, just stop it. It's fine. We have done this a million times now, and we know what each other likes. I am not going to make you uncomfortable and I would never do something that you don't wanna do. You've gotta trust me."

OH, OK! Ok, I'll just do that while she pins me down like a wild animal! But her eyes begged me to listen and I thought about it. Yes, we _had_ done this a million times now, and I think we knew each other's bodies better than we knew our own at this point. I trusted her enough to let her have total control for once, right? This was literally the Emma that I'd wanted, after all. She'd been through enough shit as it was without even having to deal with fucking me.

My brain was screaming, but I stopped trying to pull my wrists out of her grip.

"You gonna have your wicked way with me or what?" I asked.

Emma just snorted. "There's hope for you yet, Bonehead."

* * *

A/N: These guys are a mess, my god. She might be totally over him, but Mark had a lot of lasting effects on Emma. Her run-in with him is in chapter 29 of WJML, but I consider his story over, so while he'll be mentioned, I don't think he'll actually physically show up again in this story. She's dealt with it. Time to move on (WITH FRED, AAAYYYOOOOOOO)

Anyway. Also mentioned, Fred and Libby's platonic date is in chapter 17 of WJML. I seriously can't thank you guys enough for apparently still being interested in this insane universe. It means the world that you guys are still here with me.

Please review, they are the sparkling silver lights in my life xoxo

Until next time –

– Moon. :D

PS. This is being posted early and without as much editing as I normally do because I'm about to spend the upcoming weekend with limited internet. Apologies for any errors!


	4. That one time I was classy af

That One Time I Fell In Love  
(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 4: That one time I was classy af.

Emma really was fucking beautiful.

Hey look, I can admit that. It's essentially the only thing that I'll ever admit about a woman, 'cause I'm shallow as fuck, let's be honest! I'm in it for how they look, if the amount of times I can't remember a name but DO remember their rockin' abs is any indicator. So Emma … yeah, she was hot. But like, not just hot, because she wasn't a conventional attraction by any means. She wasn't tall or skinny or had silken shiny hair or whatever the crap those potion ads on the radio ramble about, but I'll go for anything me and yeah, I liked the fact that she had some curves on her. I might not be able to see her ribs, but my arm curled around a soft waist that flared out into wide hips. She had thrown me down and ridden me like a fucking pro, and I'm telling you here that there was literally nothing more beautiful than that. She had a slender leg shoved in between mine and look, I know this is going to seem like cuddling, but it wasn't, ok? Noooo, cuddling implies intimacy!

There was totally nothing intimate about this.

"I still can't believe you managed to do that," she murmured into my neck.

"Do what?" I snorted. "I literally did nothing."

"Exactly!" She pulled back slightly so that she could laugh in my face. "You did nothin' and only tried to take over about, what, ten times?"

"Five times."

"Mate, I had to bite you."

"Maybe I liked it."

"What, so you fought me on purpose?" Emma scoffed. "All you had to do was ask."

I found myself grinning at that and I don't know why, so I pulled away so she wouldn't notice. Rolling over, however, I realised that we'd lost the second pillow to somewhere across the room, along with the tossed mess of our clothes. Damn it, I was going to have to get up soon just to pick it all up. I'd just opened my mouth to complain to Emma when suddenly, there was a banging at my front door.

"Uuuugh," I moaned, yanking the one pillow we did have out from under Emma's head. I ignored her yelp as her head hit the mattress and shoved the pillow into my face. "Whoever that is, they can go away!"

"You don't think it's important?" Emma grumbled slightly. She tucked her arm under her head in the absence of the pillow.

"The only thing THAT important is a call from work, and they would have Flooed me."

"Seriously, was _is_ your job that is oh-so important?"

"Princess, please."

She whined slightly at my continuance of brushing off that particular question and I felt myself grinning again into the pillow, still grateful that she couldn't see. However, before I could muster up the energy to kick her out of my flat, we both heard a significant _clang_ of something suddenly being moved in the kitchen. There was a shuffling of footsteps. Voices murmuring through the walls. I threw the pillow off my head and the both of us snapped upright, staring at my closed bedroom door.

"There's someone in my flat!" I said.

"Holy shit, do they think no one's home?" Emma asked.

"I don't know, but I find that I'm outraged!"

"What if they're tryna rob you or somethin'?"

"Then I'll give them a piece of my mind!" I growled, sitting up at once and searching immediately for my wand. However, Emma leapt out of bed and grabbed the nearest article of clothing (which happened to be my jumper) before heading straight for the door.

"Merlin – Emma! _Emma_ , I'll handle this – oh, fucking lord …" Naturally, she didn't listen to a word I said, but disappeared out into the hallway. Before I could even get my boxers back on, I heard her screaming as she clearly thundered out into the lounge,

"HYYYYYYYAH!"

The girl is NUTS.

There was a bunch of yelling as Emma clearly tackled my would-be robber like some Muggle. I don't know what the hell goes through her head sometimes, but rational thought clearly wasn't it at the moment. "Bloody hell, Emma!" I yelled, hastily running after her. "I SAID, I'd handle it! You don't just go around tackling people – _James_!"

Fucking BOLLOCKS.

When I burst into the lounge, it was to indeed find my best friend standing there in utter confusion, having just been attacked by a very good friend of his. And because life just couldn't get grander, Libby also quickly appeared from the kitchen, looking just as equally bewildered at the appearance of her friend. I think Emma suddenly realised the gravity of this situation, since she looked rather like she feared for her life in that moment. She tried to comb her hair back with her hands, but there was literally no talking our way out of this moment.

So I said,

"Ah … shit."

* * *

My explanation of the situation was going bloody spectacularly.

"YOU SLEPT WITH FRED?" Libby screeched.

"Well, I – I dinnit MEAN to!" Emma cried.

Thanks, girl.

James was still gaping at me in horror, so I don't think he'd quite grasped the scenario yet. Sure enough, it took him several moments of spluttering before he started yelling too and, grabbing me by the arm, literally _threw me_ into my own kitchen to demand an explanation. I mean, come on, it had to be fairly obvious what was going on, but apparently he wanted to know all the details. I didn't know what the hell to tell him, mainly because I barely knew what was going on myself and mate, I'd gone from post-sex-not-cuddling, to manic best friend screeching like a pterodactyl in less than five minutes! I couldn't even look him in the eye as I somehow explained how we'd met on Halloween basically because of him.

"Oh, bloody Merlin," James said, looking like his world was currently imploding. "That was supposed to be in revenge for her dressing as a mummy when I clearly have an irrational phobia of them! It wasn't an invitation for you to SHAG her!"

"Well – I mean – it isn't _exactly_ against the rules, is it?" I asked, weakly. "I mean, she's not an ex or related to you, essentially, she's fair game–"

"Fred, she's one of my BEST FRIENDS!"

"Didn't you meet her in like, _September_?"

"NOT THE POINT!" James cried in earnest.

"Jesus Christ, I think you're about to burst a blood vessel–"

"I wouldn't be surprised!" he spluttered. "Fred, it's just a RULE, you don't screw around with people close to your mates! Or if it's not a rule, it bloody well SHOULD be! Emma's been through a lot recently, I don't want you waltzing in with your ridiculous stories of conquests to just bed her and run off! She's supposed to be able to trust me, and how can she if my best mate screws her around like that?!"

There were a few things I wanted to address within that statement – what the hell does he mean by 'been through a lot'? – you want to talk to me about trust? I had to give up control for that woman! – but it seemed that the accusations against myself were the strongest thing to fight back over.

"Piss the hell off, it's not like it's your life!" I ended up countering. "Look, I accepted ages ago that we're different now, but just because I still sleep around doesn't mean that you get to suddenly preach your morals at me!"

"I'm not preaching–"

"Really? Kinda sounds like it!" I accused.

"Look," James sighed then, rubbing his forehead warily as he apparently tried to get his head around this. "I don't want this to turn into another insane fight. I actually originally came over here with good news! I just … I can pretend this never happened, if you can?"

Thank the fucking lord. "Sounds perfect to me!" I told him, reaching out and shaking his hand. This was starting to get surreal, and I wanted nothing more than to forget the embarrassment of this entire thing! This wasn't something I'd ever intended on anyone finding out about and the fact that James and Libby now both knew was the weirdest and most exposing thing I think had ever happened in my life, which is saying something considering I'm still standing here in my underwear. Maybe if we could forget about this, then I could go back to just having great sex whenever I felt like it, and James could continue to pretend that I wasn't shagging one of his good friends. See? Perfect!

But of course, that's when Emma had to open her big mouth.

James had opened the kitchen door for us to move back out, but it was just in time to hear her exclaim, "Oh, hey! There's my bra! I swear, I've been looking for that for about two weeks now …" The _ha, ha_ in her voice was implied, like she was clearly trying to joke her way around this. I think I remembered the bra she was talking about, the one stuffed down the side of my sofa, because she'd accidentally left it there once and I hadn't quite known what to do with it. Rather unfortunately, though, this statement of hers resulted in James quite suddenly shutting the kitchen door once more with a BANG.

"Um …"

"THIS HAS HAPPENED MORE THAN ONCE?" James cried.

"Uh …"

"OH MY GOD!"

I mean, yeah, I could totally explain this!

* * *

For the record, I could not totally explain this.

Although it wasn't for the lack of trying, trust me. James freaked out over the fact that I had somehow found myself in this situation and I couldn't even make it better, 'cause I didn't even know how I'd gotten in it in the first place. I still couldn't even tell you if he was angry or not! Most of the time he just seemed shocked, but when he was reminded that it was his friend I was sleeping with, he seemed to get about as lethal as Aunt Hermione when she was on a political warpath.

"… this is … this is just WRONG!" he apparently concluded.

"Ok, this is officially getting out of hand. How the hell is this wrong?" I asked.

"Because!" James cried. "You and Emma? Look, trust me when I say that she is NOT your type!"

"Whoa, hey," I scowled at that. Who the hell was he to tell me what my type was? Fuck, I didn't even have a type! My type was anyone! I kept glaring at James as I said, "Yeah, I'll admit that she's a bit mouthy, but you've gotta admit, so are you, mate."

"Oh," James shook his head. "you did NOT just compare me to her!"

I think I cracked or something. I don't even know. I'd just had enough.

"James, think about it," I snapped at him, and he glanced up with reluctant attention. "We don't really … Emma and me, it's not exactly about the talking, but that close to someone, you kinda can't help but get to know them a little. And if she's anything like you, how can you be surprised that we're actually rather compatible?" Literally, why the fuck am I still justifying this? "Look, neither of us are looking for anything remotely serious. She mentioned some ex of hers that shook her up a bit, so it's not like she's about to fall madly in love any time soon, and we both know that I'm not going to! So why shouldn't we? What's really so bad about it?"

James didn't answer me for a long moment, scepticism still in his eyes. I think it showed how we both managed to still be friends that I didn't actually kill him. Eventually, he just kicked at the kitchen floor and told the shiny tiles,

"I just don't want you to hurt her."

I groaned, " _Maaaate_ –"

"No, I'm goddamned serious!" James insisted. "Not only is Emma a really good friend of mine, she's one of Libby's closest mates. You hurt Emma, you hurt both of us, and trust me, you do NOT want to see Libby when she's being an avenging angel for her best friends! I trust you still remember the time Jo kneed you in the balls?"

FUCK, I wasn't going to forget that anytime soon. I blanched as my brain unfortunately remembered several months ago, when all I'd wanted was to apologise to my best friend for being such a fucktard, and of course, the only place to find him was at Libby's place. Turns out that one of her insane friends, Jo White, had just been dumped, which apparently justified her kneeing me until my balls were blue simply for accidentally startling her in the kitchen. See, this is why I don't do relationships! Everything hurts and nothing is ok!

James just smirked at the look on my face.

"Yeah," he said. "That'll happen again if you screw our Em around."

I took his word for it, although I think we all know that Emma was more than capable of killing me if she felt like it. I cracked jokes with James and agreed to his ridiculous terms not to hurt her as we eventually moved back into the lounge, but on the inside, I was starting to yell. FRED, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? Despite all my best efforts, I was in a relationship here, wasn't I? Not a traditional relationship like you're probably thinking about, with feelings and commitment and shit, but I had somehow formed some kind of interpersonal connection with someone I saw on a fairly regular basis. I knew Emma! Not very well, mind, but I knew her enough to know that she would curse me into a thousand fire ants if I ever did something she didn't like, and she wouldn't hesitate for a second. As we walked into the lounge I caught sight of her, talking with Libby on the sofa. Just for a moment there, I couldn't breathe.

Run. Just fucking run, mate.

But it might have looked rather weird if I ran out of my own flat, so unfortunately, I had to stick around. I tried to ignore the choking anxiety in my throat and instead, found myself listening to James and Libby.

"Aaaaand on that note," Libby was sitting up straight and grinning as thankfully, _finally_ , someone in this flat changed the bloody topic. "Maybe now you two can actually react to the brilliant-ness that has been the last few days? I know James is practically dying for a celebratory screech!"

Oh, right, they didn't just break into my flat for The Evuls, they actually had a point in coming here! I totally forgot about that. It seemed that Emma already knew this reason, since she was quick to jump to her feet and say, "Of course – Congratulations, James!" My best friend just laughed as Emma hugged him tightly around the neck.

"Finally!" James said, gleefully. "Thank you, my homegirl!"

"What're you lot on about?" I asked, grumpily. "James, did you win a pub quiz or something?"

"Bloody hell, don't you EVER read the paper?" James broke away from Emma to throw his arms open wide and yelled at me, "I MADE THE TEAM!"

"Wait, you WHAT?"

"I made it, I'm seriously the new Beater for the Chelsea Cheetahs!"

"Holy shit, mate!" I yelled just as loudly, throwing myself forward. James hugged me with a laugh, even though I was still wearing next to nothing and about ten minutes ago, he'd wanted to rip my face off. The bastard did it! He'd been talking about getting back into the game for months now and he'd even gotten a trial at one point, but he'd bailed. When they announced the mid-season position for Beater opening up, I never thought James would ever actually go through with the trial, let alone get offered the position!

"I can't believe you did it!" I cried, pulling back and thumping James on the shoulder.

"Me either!" James yelled.

"So this means that you can get us into your first match, righ'?" Emma added, excitedly.

"Hey, I've got nothing to do with ticket distribution," James pointed a finger at her. "Try bribing Libby, she's the one who made a deal with one of your mates so that she could go."

"Aw, c'mon, I was a part of that deal, too! I swear, I entered that competition about five times under different names. I can't believe ya actually won, Lib –"

"Fate loves an underdog," Libby just threw us all a smirk.

"Whoa, wait, you've got tickets?" I said. "I looked that match up, they don't go on sale till Wednesday!"

"I won a competition," Libby laughed. "Me and my mate Sarah from work are gonna go together, although James tried to convince me that I should've given the second ticket to him. Guess I don't need to anymore!"

"Aw, but what about me?" I needled her.

" _You_ , my friend, are gonna have to camp out in front of the ticket distribution office, just like everyone else," Libby pointed out.

" _James_ ," I complained.

"Hey, don't look at me," James shrugged. "I'm the one who has to survive the match."

"You'll do brilliant – damn, my best friend is gonna be a fucking QUIDDITCH STAR! Shit like this doesn't happen in real life."

"Yeah, we're celebrating tonight, no doubt!" James grinned. "Dinner at our place, then we'll probably go out and get trashed or something."

"Even though we all did that last night," Libby pointed out.

"Yeeeep, I'm still feeling that," James winced slightly. "And sure, it might be Monday, but it's New Year's! C'mon, you guys both gotta come."

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes. "Course, I'm not gonna pass up an opportunity to get drunk with you, am I?"

"Well, I dunno …" James glanced sideways at Emma for a moment.

I ignored the insinuation as best I could, and thankfully I had managed to forget all about the crushing panic working its way into my brain for the last few minutes. Unfortunately, it came speeding back. But I sure as hell wasn't going to let that stop me from celebrating my best friend's victory, and Emma could just screw it for all I cared.

"I'll be there!" I insisted.

"So will I, of course!" Emma added, throwing her arm around James once more.

"Thanks, guys," James grinned. "Dinner's at seven, but feel free to turn up whenever, there's no pressure. See you later, yeah?"

It was all hugs and cheerful congratulations once more as James and Libby left my flat. However, as soon as the door shut behind them, Emma and I were left alone with the kind of awkward silence that leaves you wondering if it would really hurt that much to throw yourself out of a second storey window. Emma turned to look at me, still wearing my ' _I'm a bad boy_ ' jumper though thankfully, she'd thought to put pants on at some point. The bra that she'd found stuffed into my sofa cushions was currently sticking out of the pocket.

"Well, shit," she said with a nervous laugh.

"Shit, indeed," I said.

Another pause.

"Weeeeelp, this has been fun I s'pose," Emma said hastily, aiming back for my bedroom. "No, truly, it's been spectacular! Maybe I'll see you 'round –"

"What the hell are you going on about?" I followed her all the way back to my room, where she started gathering up her clothing from the various places scattered all over the floor.

"You're kiddin' me?" Emma turned to glance back at me. "Fred, I had to awkwardly explain to my best friend that I've been casually fucking you the last two months! There's really no graceful way to say that, so naturally, I've gotta go kill myself now."

"You think I'm not embarrassed?" I said. "James legit thought he'd been thrown into an alternate universe!"

"So it's settled then – been nice knowin' ya. BYEEEE!" Emma waved hastily, clothes a bundle in her arms. And I legit almost let her go. She rushed out of my room and I stood there for about all of 2.8 seconds, before swearing and running after her. I caught up just as she was about to open my front door and I yelled out,

"Goddamn it, Princess! Hold on!"

"What?" Emma asked warily, turning around.

I skidded to a halt in front of her. I didn't even know what I wanted to say. My brain was yelling at me, _MATE, let her walk out of here. Let her walk and you never have to deal with this shit again_. Seriously, I'd wanted to run, and here she was, all prepared to do just that! But I kept standing there like a gormless idiot, because I realised that I liked the thing. And I know I said it wasn't a thing, but it is, there's a thing between us and I liked it. I mean, I got incredibly satisfying sex out of it! Who wouldn't like that? Problem was, it was all fun and games when it was just a fleeting thought inside my head and a secret between us. Now … it was out. James knew, Libby knew, and now suddenly, the thought that I liked this so much went from something thrilling, to something vaguely terrifying.

 _Let her walk, Fred_.

I should.

But I didn't.

"You're still wearing my jumper."

"Oh, you want it back?" Despite herself, the corner of Emma's mouth quirked.

"If it's not too much trouble."

Emma watched me a second before apparently making up her mind. She put down the bundle of her clothes and straightened, grabbing at the hem of the jumper. She slowly pulled it off, revealing inch by inch her smooth, naked skin. I swallowed, but she didn't even flinch at the look on my face, so I didn't back down either. She casually tossed the jumper at me.

"So you were saying?" she asked.

I yanked it off my head. "Kiss me, Princess."

* * *

So the routine stayed.

I KNOW. But I'd ceased trying to understand all this. The next two weeks passed and the routine stayed almost exactly the same. We owled when we felt like it, we fell into bed together. We didn't talk. We didn't think. While in the long run it probably would have solved a lot of dramatics further down the line if she had just walked out of my flat right then, I just wasn't quite ready to give this up yet. And Merlin help me, I don't think she was either. When she had finally gone home that morning, her clothes hastily tugged on with an untucked shirt and smelling of tea and sex, it had been with the weird knowledge that I'd be seeing her again literally later that evening. Therefore, I decided to pass on the dinner at James and Libby's place and instead just joined my bunch of family weirdoes out in town. We would celebrate James' success and count down to that oh-so-magical moment where time would move on and we would find ourselves in a whole new year! But apparently skipping dinner had resulted in me missing out on a lot.

"Do not come at me with anymore wine," Rose was apparently warning her friends when I'd arrived, currently surrounded by what looked like a harem of excited women. "You get any of that in me, I promise you that I WILL cry!"

"What the bloody hell is going on?" I'd blurted out in bewilderment.

"Fred!" Rose's eyes lit up when she'd noticed me, skipping forward to crush me in a hug. "Oh my god! I'm glad you're here! SCORPIUS PROPOSED! Happy New Year! Want a drink?"

"Whoa, go back a few sentences!" I'd shaken my head, pulling back a moment. " _Scorpius proposed_? What the fuck is wrong with him?"

Rose had just laughed in my face, showing me the new sparkly ring on her finger. "Thank you, we're excited too!"

I'd snorted at her, but let her hug me again because I was honestly happy for her. You can't deny the weird little roller coaster that was Rose and Scorpius. I'd accidentally met Emma's eye from over her shoulder that night from where she hung with the other girls and caught the look on her face. I'd held it for about two seconds, before we'd both seemed to apparently realise that we were grinning at each other and hastily looked away. We spent most of the evening talking loudly to other people (or at least I was), except for about three seconds at midnight …

"… THREE! TWO! ONE!" Emma was calling out happily when I'd caught her by the hips from behind. She'd gasped slightly as all around us, the pub burst into raucous cheers and screams.

" _Happy New Year_ ," I'd smirked into her neck.

She'd reached up a hand, curling into my hair and turning so that she could pull my mouth down to hers. I think it was the first time we'd ever done something like this outside of my flat. The place might have been crowded and dark and everyone we knew distracted by hugging and kissing each other as well, but I'd pulled away after pressing deep for only a few seconds.

Oh, don't judge. You gotta kiss someone at midnight, ok?

What with the new rock on Rose's finger, James' celebration had been quickly overtaken, although he thankfully hadn't seemed to mind much. He'd spent most of New Year's just happily hanging and apparently willing to put up with me talking non-stop. No, what got to him happened exactly a week later, when an emergency at the Cursebreaker office hit. It had apparently sent the place into utter chaos and forced Libby to hastily pack her bags.

"I can't believe she's missing my first ever match!" James said.

"Oh, really?" I muttered dryly. "I must've missed that the first thousand times you said it."

" _Freeeed_ ," James whined. Honestly, I'd only come here to ask about the Chelsea Cheetahs stadium and find out which seats were the best, only I'd found him collapsed on his sofa with a hot water bottle shoved up his shirt and wearing a fluffy dressing gown with ducks on it. Honestly. I was informed that the hot water bottle was to sooth the pain of that day's training session out on the pitch, but the whining was apparently due to the lack of Libby in this here flat.

"How am I supposed to play this match without her?" James told me, still lying flat on his back like he'd just had the wind knocked outta him. "An hour ago everything was fine! I only went to pick her up from work, 'cause I've barely seen her since I started training, and within fifteen bloody minutes, she was leaving for Italy! HOW IS THIS FAIR?"

I snorted as I plonked myself down on his coffee table next to him, making a mental note to not owl Emma that night. About nine times out of ten I was glad that I'd managed to get her spark back, and that other time she was a menace to society. With an emergency at work on this scale, she would be a right state and the only solution in these cases was to naturally avoid at all costs.

"How long she gone for?"

"At least a whole month!" James complained, slapping a hand to his forehead. "She's going to miss my birthday, too! All because a bloody tomb collapsed. Honestly, why did SHE have to be the one to go and fix it?"

"Isn't she the team leader?" I asked in amusement.

"Oh, who cares?"

"I think the Cursebreakers who were inside the tomb at the time might," I pointed out.

"Quit being rational," James glared. "I'm trying to be dramatic here!"

"I hadn't noticed."

"Seriously, Fred. How am I supposed to play like this?" James asked, desperately. "I bloody ache all over, my reserve is currently plotting my murder and there's a REASON I bailed the first time round! I can't do this, especially not without her–"

"OH MY GOD, will you shut it?" I shook my head. "James. You managed perfectly fine before Libby came into your life, and you will manage fine now! You're not good at flying because of her, you're good because you practice and you're a prodigy broom child and shit. Besides, doesn't she suck at Quidditch anyway?"

James thankfully snorted with laughter. "She doesn't even own a broom."

"Well, there you go!" I said. "As for all that other stuff, suck it up. You've got a match to win in seven days and it's not gonna happen with you whining. If in doubt, wing it and hope for the best! Oh, and that reminds me, what're the best seats in the Cheetahs stadium? We're gonna camp out in line so that we don't end up with seats directly behind a pillar or the score board or something."

"You want middle top section, those are the best," James said, thankfully with something of a chortle. "But I'll warn you that tickets are going to sell out fast. Everyone wants to come to this match."

"James, you'll be fine–" I began again exasperatedly, but he cut over me.

"Don't worry, I know. Thanks, mate."

We were silent a moment as he managed to haul himself upright on his sofa and for a second, I honestly thought he was going to change the topic and try and talk about Emma. He was watching me curiously and I avoided meeting his eye much like I had done back during the most awkward conversation of my life when we had been caught. What the hell did he even want me to tell him, anyway? _Yes, so, I've got this thing going with Emma, and I kind of like it …_ my life is a fucking mess when you think about it.

James opened his mouth, but I leapt up and practically yelled,

"COFFEE! You need some bloody coffee, mate!" I slapped him on the back, making him cringe and swear as I almost ran for the kitchen.

Nice save, Fred. You killed it.

* * *

Do you know how much it sucks to have to listen to a match over the radio?

James' first match against the Kenmare Kestrals sold out in about two hours. That's over 40,000 people, plus the media, staff, coaches and players! I might've stood a chance at getting in, but work decided that I suddenly wasn't going to have a life in the week leading up to the match, leaving me not just cranky and tired, but ALSO ticket-less.

"Fred, I seriously would've gotten you a ticket, promise!" Rose had hugged me in utter despair when my very last hope was utterly crushed by her. "But the others had to go to work and by the time I got to the front of the line, there was only me there and they refused to sell more than three tickets per person! I tried to argue, but he threatened not to sell to me at all and –"

"Rosie, shut up, it's ok," I'd shaken my head, hugging her back exasperatedly. "I mean, you've totally just gone and killed all my hopes and dreams and I'm going to hate you the rest of my life … but it's ok!"

Rose had laughed, but it still didn't get me into the match. Therefore, I was forced to listen to it instead along with dozens of others at a crowded pub down Diagon Alley, _Flash Dragon_. I think it was the same place we'd taken over for New Year's, but quite honestly, I didn't come here often. I tended to frequent Muggle pubs, seeing as the odds of me accidentally running into someone I'd slept with were statistically low there, but tonight wasn't about finding somebody (well, maybe). No, tonight was about my best friend! There were several radios scattered around the pub blaring out the game commentary, everyone crowded around the wooden tables with drinks and excitement bursting to the rafters. I sat with a few of my cousins, hanging onto every word that came from those speakers.

"… _and Richardson takes a beating! Ouch – yep, he's taking a time out, being subbed on for Anne Jenkins. I don't know where the Beaters were when that happened. Potter and Smith better step up if they want to win this!_ "

Everyone at our table groaned. "Aw, c'mon James!" Molly cried.

"What the hell're you doing?!" Dom added in equal despair.

"You'd think he'd never played before!" my little sister just shook her head, gravely.

"Shut up, there's more–" I shushed her, waving a hand.

"… _so far, Potter's been holding up tonight, hasn't he Drew_?" the drawly voice of commentator Stan was asking.

" _That's right Stan, he's not been doing too badly for someone who's been on the team less than a month,_ " Drew agreed. " _I know that the bookies have been staking odds rather in his favour tonight!_ "

" _Well, we'll see if he's got what it takes. Richardson's still out, but Kestrals have possession now, Serkis is ploughing down the pitch there –_ "

"He has got to win this!" Dom said at once. "Seriously, I don't think I'll ever be able to live down being related to him otherwise!"

"Don't freak out, course he's gonna win it," I told her.

"How do you know?" Dom shot me a shoot, pointing her bottle of Firewhiskey at me.

"Because he's my best mate, that's how," I answered, _duh_ in my expression. I loved Dom, she was normally lots of fun! She had quite similar attitudes to me in terms of her sexuality (in other words, she'd basically fuck anything that moves) and since she's a couple years older we hadn't been forced to play together as kids, so we got on quite well now. Molly, on the other hand, was a bit of an enigma in our family. Seriously, I don't think anyone could quite figure her out, and with her dyed blue hair, ripped leather jacket and _I was a serial killer in a past life_ t-shirt, I don't think anyone was that willing to go there. Nevertheless, she loved Quidditch as much as the rest of us, so she was out here too, along with me and Roxanne. We were sharing our table with a group of girls on the other side, but I honestly wasn't paying them attention.

"You guys don't seriously know James Potter, do you?" one of them suddenly asked me.

… much.

"He's our cousin, gorgeous!" I told the girl with a grin.

"Get out!"

"Nah, nah, tellin' the truth! James is my best mate," I swore.

"No way … is he single, then?" she asked, only to get several of her friends smacking her on the arm. " _Tina_!" they cried and she yelled, "WHAT? I was just asking!"

"Sorry, dear Tina, 'fraid to tell you James is off the market," I said. "I mean, I'm not, but whatever you wanna do with that …"

Tina giggled. She was cute, in a young and blond kind of way. I was fairly certain she couldn't be much older than 19 or 20, and she had glitter on her eyes, but you know, I have no standards. Suddenly, someone thumped my arm hard and I swore loudly as I whirled around.

"What the hell, Roxie?!" I cried, rubbing my shoulder.

"What're you doing?" she hissed, as Tina and the rest of our table went back to listening to the game.

"Nothing!"

"You're flirting!"

"So?" I thumped her back for good measure.

"Oh, are we beating each other up now?" Molly called from across the table, interested.

"Molly, just listen to the match!" I yelled back. "Roxie, would you shut up? I know what you're trying to argue with me about, and it's none of your business."

"Ok, so you're telling me," Roxanne raised an eyebrow at me, absently rubbing her rapidly bruising forearm. "that Emma would have no problem with this."

"We're not like that."

"So, you'd tell her if you slept with someone else?"

"Jesus Christ, all I did was talk to the girl!"

"Yeah, with the intention of sleeping with her later."

"Roxie–" I began, but quickly closed my eyes. It wouldn't be good for moral (not to mention keeping Molly out of Azkaban) if I murdered my sister now. "– look, yeah, sure! I'd totally tell Emma, not that she would care."

"Fine," Roxanne smirked. "fine, go ahead, sleep with whoever you want! Tell Emma. I've been looking for a way to get you killed without having to do it myself."

"You better watch it, or –"

Suddenly, the entire pub exploded in a myriad of cheers and screaming. People cried and threw their arms around each other. Dom snogged the first person she saw. Molly grabbed Roxanne and span her around. "What – WHAT?" I yelled, only to have someone pull on my shoulder.

Suddenly, someone was kissing me.

"Sorry!" Tina spluttered, cheeks bright red. "But we won!"

"Wait, shit – we won?" I cried.

"Yeah, the Cheetahs Seeker just caught the Snitch!"

"Oh my god!"

"Yeah!" Tina laughed and I randomly hugged her with glee. I didn't even care that she'd kissed me, it hardly even registered in my brain. James, the idiot, actually managed to win his first match! Granted, he had a little help in the form of his Seeker, but that wasn't the point. He was seriously a full-blown Quidditch star now! He'd been dreaming of this day ever since we were little kids and he'd told me rather seriously as a five-year-old that he was going to rule the pitch someday. If I remember correctly, I had snorted at him something along the lines of, "Yeah, right – let's go put worms in Roxie's pants again!"

The bastard actually did it!

That, my friends, was when the _real_ party started. Somebody bought celebratory champagne and it all kind of went spectacular from there. Everyone cheered and laughed with each other, the pub started blasting the music and tables got moved out of the way when the late hour hit, so now we could also dance in celebration of our win. Luckily, there didn't appear to be too many fans of the Kestrals in here, so the atmosphere stayed crazy and upbeat. In fact, by the time James finally showed up at around one in the morning, the pub was busy breaking out the conga line!

"MATE!" I cried, throwing myself at him.

"Whoa – Fred!" James laughed, hugging me back.

"James, you fuckin' KILLED the Kestrals!" I yelled. "Holy buggering shit, I can't believe you did it!"

"Hey!" James certainly looked like he'd been dragged behind a bus for a good few miles. He didn't appear to have any major injuries, but he winced whenever he moved and his hair was an utter mess. Or maybe I was the one moving? Whooooo …

"Mate, you all right?" James asked as I staggered.

"What?"

"You nearly fell over!"

"Yeah, well, you oughta get to this stage too!" I said, shoving my own drink in his hands. "Are the others here?"

"Yeah! Rosie and Scorpius, Al and Bea – blimey, I'm going to have to call Libby later – and I think Em's still here somewhere –?"

"You invited Emma?" Shit. My chest suddenly screwed up and I yanked the drink back out of James' hands before he'd even taken a sip. I downed the entire thing.

"She came to the match!" James snorted. "Since Libby had to be in Italy, Emma used her ticket that she won, remember?"

"Oh, right …" I mumbled, but quite honestly, I barely remembered such a conversation. I didn't remember a lot of things right now! I could recall that Libby was still in Italy, probably digging out rocks or wrestling with mummies or whatever. I might've actually known what Cursebreakers did for real if I ever bothered to ask Emma, considering the two worked together and all, but I kept suppressing the idea. Actually, I'd been doing that a lot lately.

 _Run, RUN YOU LITTLE FUCKER_ , my brain kept yelling at me.

 _Oh, shut up_ , I kept saying back.

Thankfully, James claimed he needed a drink as he rolled his eyes, throwing his arm over my shoulders and walking us to the bar. I think the entire pub went beside itself at the fact that THE JAMES POTTER had just walked in, because we got waylaid about five times along the way. Eventually, it was only our cousins and mates surrounding us that allowed us to get anywhere!

"Jesus, you're right famous now!" I pointed out.

"Ahhh, it's just 'cause we won," James grinned. "Trust me, if we'd lost, they'd all be cursing my guts out."

"True," I shrugged.

"FRED!" Rose called out then, appearing over my shoulder and squeezing an arm around my neck. "Wasn't James amazing?!"

"I only gotta hear 'bout it, but sure!" I cried, dramatically.

"Oh, hush," Rose laughed. "Hey, Emma's here–"

"Yeah, I heard," I grumbled. "Honestly–"

"MOVE ASIDE, BITCHES!" The Princess herself arrived. Oh my god. What the hell am I doing here? I might have just up and turned around to walk away, but it probably wasn't the best idea to let go of Rose at the moment. Emma rocked on up with a paw print painted on her cheek in gold paint and a hand-made fan shirt, which was basically just a black t-shirt with 'Go Cheetahs!' written on it in the same gold. She was ridiculous. She winked at me.

Shit, what's my name again?

"Where's the alcohol at, 'cause I'm buyin'!" Emma yelled once she had reached us with a bang of her fist on the bar. She rested an arm over James' shoulder.

"Oh, wine for me!" Bea called, catching up.

"Finally!" James cried once he'd turned from the bar and noticed everyone else turn up. "I just got out of the official match after-party, and quite honestly I think I've drunk too much wine already, but who the hell cares? DRINKS ON EMMA!"

The others cheered as our other cousins rocked on up, Dom and Molly yelling at James and piling on top of him. Scorpius also appeared, stealing Rose from me as he wrapped his arms enthusiastically around her shoulders from behind. I turned and watched Rose laugh and lean up to kiss him briefly, which was about as affectionate I think I'd ever seen them. Normally, they're busy screaming at each other in public. Maybe it had something to do with the goddamned rock on her finger? Who knew. I'd ceased understanding them years ago. There were literally so many of us now that even though I knew I was supposed to know everybody here, my brain was non-functioning and starting to swim! Who was it I was accepting a drink from, again?

"Don' worry, Fred, it's on me!" Emma was suddenly in front of me, shoving a Firewhiskey into my hands. Nobody around us had thankfully mentioned the fact that technically, we were supposed to barely know each other. I didn't even know if anyone other than James and Roxanne knew. I accepted the drink without question, but accidentally caught my sister's eye from across the bar, and the look she gave me was enough to make me uncomfortably turn away and hastily start talking to Bea.

I admittedly didn't talk to Bea that often, but she was pretty cool, I guess. She was pretty, but I met her when I was like, twelve, so I unfortunately grew up imagining her as a younger sister who was less annoying than Roxanne, at least. Well, there was that and the fact that James had come up to me a couple years later and said, "Fair warning, I just talked to Al. Actually, 'talked' is a loose term. Basically, it goes like this: if we ever kiss Bea … we're dead." Rose had taken to the dance floor with Dom and Roxanne, and soon she was calling out and beckoning Bea frantically that she should come and join them. "C'mon, Fred!" Bea said excitedly, taking my hand and dragging me after her.

Hey, I know I was technically related to all of them somehow, but I got to dance surrounded by a group of pretty girls! Let's face it, everyone knows that the Weasley family is smokin'. Damnit, I think I've had one too many Firewhiskey's. Rose and Bea grabbed my hands and did the twist in time with the music, while Dom and Roxanne flung each other around. James was no doubt somewhere, either crying over how much he missed Libby, or busy drinking so that he didn't. I didn't care where Emma was.

Nope.

Naturally, she turned up.

I couldn't tell you how. My brain had been screaming something at me earlier (something about running?), but now it was just fucking shot. Music was pounding, there were people everywhere and someone yelled at me, but I couldn't hear a thing. One second, it was Rose in front of me and the next, it was Emma who was hanging onto my shoulder, laughing and tripping slightly on her feet. Why was dancing with her a RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™ idea again? OH, WELL. I grabbed her hips and she instinctively moved into me. There was really no talent in it, and quite honestly, I think it barely even counted as 'dancing'. It was more … moving relatively in time to music. Her arms wound around my neck and I couldn't see anything beyond her. Fuck, fuck, FUCKING FUCK! What the hell was I doing? The crowd blurred and literally the only thing that stood out was her. Eventually, the dancing must have crossed a line at some point, because the next thing I realised was that we'd been kissing passionately for what felt like the last three songs.

"From – from a scale of one to blackout, how sober are ya?" Emma muttered.

"Fucking blackout, Sweetheart."

"Good … I think everyone knows, now."

"Knows what?"

"Merlin, we _are_ drunk!"

"They know we're drunk? Ok."

"Noooo, I mean … oh, whatever."

She kissed me again. I really do like kissing that mouth! Emma's mouth just got mine, y'know? She knew what I liked and I didn't have to put up with an unknown waging war against my tonsils! See? What bad idea?

Things got a little heated on that dance floor. It got to the point where Dom was whistling at us and a burly security guard with his wand conveniently held in his hand told us to either break it up, or go find a nice bathroom somewhere. Oh, we found somewhere, all right! We accidentally knocked over a rubbish bin as I shoved Emma up against the brick outside wall of the bar. We weren't alone out here in the shadowy side alleyway. There was a homeless wizard a few rubbish skips down, and another couple, one of whom I think was vomiting violently into the gutter. There was literally nothing classy about this.

I still fucked her against the pub wall.

She'd protested that she was too short for it and that she wanted her leggings back once I stripped them off her because it was cold, but it didn't stop her. Nothing stopped us. Praying I didn't drop her, I wrapped her legs around me and simply kissed her to shut her up. I was aching to have her, and we both let out very loud, and very embarrassing moans when I sank into her. I didn't understand how this woman could do it. Good sex was easy when you knew how, but fucking amazing sex took a particular person. Emma was that person. She was my person.

Emma curled her fingers in my hair and whispered into my ear what she wanted to do to me. She was incredible.

"Y'know, I think we have better sex when we're drunk," Emma was eventually telling me, once she had gingerly slid down the bricks and placed her feet back on the ground. Then, she eyed me peering at the ground and said, "mind, tha's if you evah find my leggin's – you know if you've lost 'em, I'm gonna kill you!"

"Whoa," I sniggered. "Did you realise that your accent gets WAY stronger if you've been drinking?"

"FRED!"

"They were right here," I said exasperatedly, gesturing frantically at the damp and grotty ground. My exuberant moves made me stumble. "Whoa–!"

"Wait, you idiot–" Emma had lurched forward to keep me from face-planting and grabbed at my jacket. I glanced down in surprise, and sure enough, turns out her black leggings were half stuffed into my pocket. I burst into laughter as I pulled them out, Emma cracking up a second later.

"Oh my god!" she nearly cried. "We are such a hot mess!"

"Can you hear someone shouting?"

We both paused suddenly, Emma using my shoulder to lean heavily on as she quickly tugged her legs back into her leggings (don't ask me where her underwear was, I don't want to think about it). We glanced back out into the softly lit street outside the pub, where it seemed a conflict was a-brewin'! If I weren't mistaken by the Kestrel green, it seemed some of them had infiltrated enemy territory, and the Cheetahs were not happy!

"Oh, lord," Emma shook her head. "is that a fight?"

"WOOO! FIGHT! FIGHT!" I yelled.

"FRED!"

" _What_?" I said.

"Tha's support for James' team, what if 'es in there?"

Oh, right, fuck. Emma and I quickly stumbled for the street, still leaning against each other, mainly because it was the only way to walk without falling over. The loud and insult-throwing group of fans hadn't seemed to have quite escalated into a full-on duel yet, but sparks were issuing from wands and there seemed to be a lot of anger being thrown around! The bouncers outside the pub were glancing at each other, probably wondering when they had a right to yell at them to take it somewhere else. Thankfully, we ran into James and several of the others outside the pub, all watching the carnage in varying expressions of horror and amusement.

"Wha's going on?" Emma yelled once we were near.

"Oh, hey," James snorted when he saw us rock on up. "totally wasn't wondering where you two went."

"Shut up, we're classy as fuck!" she said, slapping his shoulder.

Blimey, Emma.

James rolled his eyes, but pointed at the yelling group. "We think Molly may have accidentally started a gang war."

"Over Quidditch?"

"People get very serious about Quidditch!" James insisted.

"Ok, ok!" Al was the one to cut in, now. He had his arm slung around his wife and most of us turned to look at him, including Roxanne clinging onto Dom (who was busy trying to flirt with some bloke behind our little group at the same time), James leaning against the nearest lamp post, and Rose and Scorpius about five feet behind us, currently snogging fiercely and not listening to a word said. "I'm not going to Azkaban tonight, so who's the soberest out of everyone here?"

No one spoke up.

"I think it's you, mate," Roxanne pointed out.

"Well, I'm not up to Apparating, and the Bouncer won't let us back inside, so train station it is," Al shrugged. "You bitches can find your own way home after that!"

Behind us, there was a sudden _BANG_. Someone had finally snapped and the duel had broken out. We all jumped and someone shrieked as residual purple smoke was left over the raining curses and yelling. In amongst the insanity, I saw blue-haired Molly cackling evilly, hexing a Kestrel's face backwards.

See, they definitely got that poll wrong when _I_ was the Weasley voted, 'Most Likely to End Up in Azkaban'.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the inconsistent updating. The finale for 'The X Files' revival aired and I got very, very distracted! This chapter sure went on a journey and I'm not entirely sure what happened, but a majority of it coincides with chapter 31 of WJML. Honestly, these two exhaust me. I can barely keep with them and their severely messed up feelings!

I really, really hope you liked it. Please let me know what you thought! As Agent Scully would say, I do it all for you! xoxo

Sorry, wrong fandom.

Until next time -

\- Moon. :D


	5. That one time I punched someone

That One Time I Fell In Love  
(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 5: That one time I punched someone (in the face).

I don't remember getting home, but I certainly remember waking up.

The second I opened my eyes, I closed them again with a groan. It was far too bloody bright in here. I was apparently slumped down into the corner of my sofa at home, legs kicked haphazardly over the coffee table. I didn't have a cushion, so my head had been forced to loll back onto the arm rest the entire night (or however long I was asleep, I'm about 95% certain that I was still up at four am!). My neck was utterly killing me, but I couldn't bring myself to move it. My right arm was numb, due to the fact that Emma was apparently also here, still asleep and leaning against it.

She was smashed up alongside me, between my body and the back of the sofa. One of her legs was curled up underneath her while the other dangled off the edge of the sofa, her shoes scattered nearby on the floor. She was snoring lightly, slumped down like myself and her head resting against the crook of my shoulder. I had a lot of brown hair in my face and I slowly moved it out of the way, trying not to accidentally inhale.

I swallowed painfully.

I've never woken up with Emma before.

She started stirring along with me then, mumbling unintelligibly about light and the fact that her head was pounding. I caught her eye as she turned to find out what it was she was leaning against, but it seemed that she couldn't be bothered getting worked up about it. Well, if she couldn't then neither could I! It was far too early for this shit. We both slumped back down into the Sofa of Pain™ with exhausted whimpers.

"What time did we get back?" Emma yawned.

"I don't know, I don't remember much of anything," I admitted.

Emma rubbed her eyes. "I remember catching a train all the way to Watford, for some reason."

" _Watford_?" I repeated. "What the hell did we go there for?"

"I didn't say it made sense."

"Did we even have sex? I seriously don't remember a thing," I moaned.

"All I remember is getting in at some ungodly hour and passing out," Emma said. She squirmed slightly and I let out a grunt as she accidentally elbowed me in the gut. Then, she frowned and added, "Wait. I'm not wearin' any knickers. I remember being at the pub. Oh, god, PLEASE don't tell me we did it in front of ev'ryone!"

I just snorted. "Princess, please, I can barely recall the pub! I don't think we were quite THAT drunk."

Emma let out a laugh at that, but it only made her groan and rub her head warily. "Nnngg … shit – _shit_ – I've gotta get up …" she said.

"I'm making coffee," I mumbled.

"Oh, no, I hate coffee, just tea is fine …" Emma insisted.

I unfortunately needed the caffeine fix, which I swear was the only reason I nudged her to let me up so that I could start looking for my wand. Otherwise, she would've been OUTTA THERE, SIANORA, GONE BURGER! … I need to stop. I noticed that we were both strategically avoiding talking about the fact that she had actually stayed the night and that she was now apparently staying for coffee too. Or tea, or whatever! I mean, I'd done this awkward morning routine before, with other girls before they left, but other girls weren't Emma. Other girls hadn't ridden the Fucking Fred Train more than once. I ended up boiling the kettle in silence and she offered no words of wisdom either. I'm assuming that we both looked a mess, since Emma had gold paint smeared over her face and a swipe of my hand across my cheek indicated that it was all over me too. Not to mention that there were literally no words for the state of Emma's hair. You know, I actually think an entire foot of her height was just brown frizziness! In fact, neither of us said anything at all until we were both uncomfortably sat at my kitchen table with our caffeine of choice.

"Soooo …" Emma mused over the rim of her mug. "just out of curiosity, are we ever gonna talk about this?"

"Talk about what?" I asked.

"The fact that we're sleeping together," Emma rolled her eyes.

My chest clenched painfully, as it seemed to do whenever I was reminded of this fact. I refused to give anything away as I outwardly just shrugged.

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Hmm," Emma murmured.

" _What_?"

"Nothing!" Emma said exasperatedly, letting her mug of tea bang onto the table roughly. "I was just thinkin', is all. I mean … look, it's morning and I'm still here. It's all well and good when I leave barely two minutes after you're yellin' out my name, but I won't pretend this shit isn't happenin' forever. I need to know what the goddamn rules are."

I looked up and met her eyes across my kitchen table. Thank god we'd never done it on said table, otherwise I don't think I'd be able to think about anything else (although _why_ we hadn't yet used the kitchen table to our advantage was probably the better question to be asking here, we should get on that!). She only held my gaze for a second, before covering her face up with drinking some more tea. I almost felt amused at seeing Insecure Emma again. She turned up in random, odd moments and only for a short while, but now I knew a sure fire way to get her back to normal (seriously, let this girl tie you up and she'll get ya _begging for it_ ). Now over time, I'd found that Insecure Emma was actually rather endearing.

"I thought we knew the goddamn rules to this," I smirked over my coffee.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine! I'm bringing it up because you kissed someone else."

For a second my stomach dropped out. Wait, I did? WHAT THE HELL, WHEN? My head hurt and it was far too early to be trying to recover any crap memories of last night, but suddenly the thought of some random girl kissing me in celebration when the match was won flooded my brain. _Oh, riiiiight_. But so? I completely forgot about the girl after that! Hell, she wasn't the one I was fucking in an alleyway, was she?

 _Oh, Jesus_.

I'd forgotten about that too up until now. Suddenly, my brain was being affronted with the memories of Emma wrapped around me, crying out into my neck as I had her up against the brick wall. I winced, rubbing my forehead as Emma dutifully avoided my gaze.

"Princess, I know I'm a fucking gift, but I hardly remember," I said. "Which begs the question, how do YOU remember that? You weren't even there yet!"

"I might've talked to your sister."

"DAMN IT, ROXIE," I ground out. "I'm legit going to kill her."

"She's lovely."

"She's a menace to society, that's what she is!"

Emma looked like she wanted to snort with laughter, but was rightly trying to keep her cool. "Look, I don' _care_ if you kissed someone else. Like I said, I just wanna know what the fucking rules are between us, namely about seeing other people. I mean, we're allowed to … right?"

"Are you seriously asking my permission?"

Emma kicked me under the table. "Fuck you."

" _Yow –_ shit, Emma," I grumbled, leaning down to rub the offending shin that had just connected with her heel. "What was that for?"

"I'm not asking your permission to do anything, Bonehead! If I wanna sleep with other people, I'm gonna. I'm just trying to define what's ok so we're on the same page, _Jesus_."

"Princess, you're gettin' too complicated," I complained. "Fine, whatever, it's ok! We can sleep with whoever the hell we like, I really couldn't care less who else gets to fuck you. I mean, I don't know why you'd _want_ anyone else, seeing as we both know that I'm probably the most sexually satisfying person you've come across in your entire life, buuuut–"

Emma scoffed so much that she choked on her tea. " _Oh my god_ , Fred."

"C'mon," I teased. "I'm the best you've ever had."

"Am I the best _you've_ ever had?" Emma threw back at me.

"I asked you first!"

But her question had drawn me up short. My brain immediately leapt on shutting that down completely, because _bitch please_ , Emma was hardly the first girl to make it into my bed. I could think off the top of my head of several one night stands that had been WAY more satisfying than Emma was (I can't forget the chick with purple hair … I mean, she was nuts, but she was also VERY flexible). But after sleeping with her for a few months now, there was a kind of solid familiarity to sex with Emma that I'd never had with anyone else before, and it wasn't actually a bad thing. We'd found a rhythm that worked. Over time we'd developed a shorthand, exploring each other's bodies to the point where we knew exactly what got hot desire a-flowin' and what didn't. I could make her come in fucking no time if I wanted! There was no first-time awkwardness anymore and quite honestly, I think I was more comfortable around her when we were fully naked rather than clothed, which had to be saying something.

I always assumed that this kind of closeness got boring after a while. I never dreamed that it could be some of the hottest sex I'd ever had. This woman could just look at me and it would be a party in my pants!

Maybe that also said something.

"Fine then," I shrugged, causing Emma to roll her eyes. "I reckon you're up there … top 20, definitely."

" _T_ _op 20_? Oh, that's nice–"

"I mean, fine, top 10 if you want me to be generous–"

"Don't tell me I'm worse than that girl whose window you had to climb out of – James also talks," she added in explanation, mischief getting back in her eyes.

"Trust me, NO ONE is worse than that girl."

"Well, that boosts my confidence."

"Fine," I drained my coffee, slamming the mug down on the table. "Top three, that's as much as I'm gonna say. Now, it's time for you to get outta here and not contact me for at least 24 hours–"

"That a new rule?" Emma laughed.

"YOU'RE the one who wanted to define this – oh, for god's sake," I grumbled. I stood up, taking the mug out of her hands before yanking her to her feet. "Look, just leave already, ok?" I insisted, putting the mug down and walking her by the shoulders back through the lounge towards my fireplace. "We know the rules, we didn't wake up together this morning, and for the record, I think I just found your missing knickers!" I had shoved a hand into my pocket to find my wand and summon her shoes over and sure enough, at the same time I'd felt the damn things inside. I yanked them out and threw her knickers across the lounge where Emma caught them.

"You're such an idiot," she said happily, also accepting the shoes thrust at her.

"So sweet. Get the fuck out."

"See you tonight?" Emma teased.

"GOOOOO!"

She left … but not before slingshot-ing her knickers back at my head.

* * *

Chelsea Cheetah's win was all over every newspaper and James' name was in every second sentence, I swear. He'd gone from D-list celebrity, to hella fucking famous overnight! Down at the office, all anyone could ask me about was him, since I certainly hadn't refrained from making it common knowledge that we were best mates.

"That match was amazing, I had no idea he was that good!" my hot colleague, Sapphire, had told me excitedly. "Reckon you could–?"

"He has a girlfriend and no, I'm not asking him to send you an owl!" I had cried before she could even finish.

"Well, shit. Who shoved a broomstick up your arse?"

"No one, SHUT UP!"

I know, I was being real sociable lately. Blame the princess in my life! Actually, there's a point, how the buggering hell did she manage to become 'a part of my life' at all? The only girls who were supposed to be in my life were the ones related to me! I was barely processing what we had talked about that morning after the match, if that's what you call obsessively running justifications for it through my head ( _rules are good, we probably needed to define it anyway, now we can't be mad right?, she can sleep with whoever she likes …_ ). I was afraid that she would want to meet up again too soon after this, though, so to avoid getting any owls and be able to claim ignorence if she questioned why I never got back to her, I ended up in an impromptu sleepover at James' place.

"Mate, it sucks AND I MISS HER SO MUCH," James was currently whining sometime at one in the morning.

James and Libby's flat was kind of known for being a little messy and the place where strange things happened, but I happened to like it here. Even if it meant that my best friend was actually living with a girl. Sometimes, I still couldn't believe that he actually bloody went there! Although, that's not saying that James handled the transition well. Nope, the process of finding James at this point, contently living with his serious girlfriend, had been in the works since he'd first slept with her like, three years ago and simply hadn't been able to let her go.

Like, I still remember the first time he met her parents. He ended up crashing my place at some ungodly hour in the morning, freaking out because this was somehow getting serious. Through bleary eyes, I might've told him to shut the fuck up and go back home to her. They officially moved in together less than a month later.

What can I say, I was feeling sentimental at 3am.

"James, I KNOW!" I yelled back at him from across his flat. "You only mention it like, every five seconds. Remind me where I'm putting this again?"

"Wherever on that side of the lounge is good! It's your fort after all – if you think you can defend it."

Ok, so we may or may not have been in the process of rearranging the furniture for intergalactic-warfare-reasons. I mean, I've known James a long time and let's face it, whenever we got together it always turns into some ridiculous game (except we take the job of testing the laser tag gift Libby bought for her younger cousin's birthday VERY SERIOUSLY). I currently had the kitchen table turned on it's side, trying to levitate it through the hallway into the lounge. James' head had popped up from behind the sofa he was dragging out from the wall as he spoke.

"Ha, ha – you jest, but General Weasley has some tricks!" I yelled back. I managed to manoeuvre the table so that it didn't take out the T.V. or anything and dumped it down opposite James' sofa. James was currently snatching up all the cushions, scattering them haphazardly across the lounge floor.

"Please, you will never defeat me!" James said.

"ATTACK! – oh, wait, where are the weapons?" I added, hastily breaking off to look around.

"Oh – hang on–" James leapt out from behind his own sofa fort and picked up one of the two laser tag guns, tossing the other to me. I mean, don't judge us for this! Libby hadn't actually asked us to test this out, but apparently James was going a little stir-crazy from being sans-love-of-his-life for the past two weeks, so I decided to humour him when in amongst movie watching, he suggested a be-all- end-all showdown till death. I caught the gun in my hands and before he could even jump back to safety, I had shot him.

 _Ping_.

"Yes!"

"Oi! That's cheating, we haven't started yet!" James complained.

 _Ping_.

"FRED!"

"That's General Weasley to you – mwahahaha!" I cried. James took a shot at me this time, and I hastily dived back behind my table. I glanced down at the scanner on my chest to see it blinking back the number one, indicating how many times I'd been shot. All was quiet, until I heard a rustling from the left side of the table.

I jumped up and nailed James a good five times before he could even respond.

 _Ping. Ping. Ping._

"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!"

"Jesus, mate – stop shooting me–!" James' attempt to storm my fort ended with him diving to the floor and using a cushion as a shield. I jumped over the table and bared down on him, grabbing my wand from my pocket. I summoned the cushion into my hands and shot him.

 _Ping_.

"HEY!" James yelled. "THAT'S NOT FAIR, WE SAID NO MAGIC!"

"Oops, I forgot."

"That's it–!"

James leapt and wrestled me to the floor, wrenching my laser gun right out of my hands. Excess _pings_ went off but no one's counter went up as James attempted to get my wand off me. Eventually, he had both guns while I had the cushion, my wand having rolled somewhere across the floor.

Great. Like I haven't been in THIS position before.

"Damnit, James, where's my wand?" I complained. "I feel like I'm at work here!"

"Exactly how often are you admitting that you lose your wand like this?" James snorted.

"HEY! I'd like to see you try it!" I complained. I spotted it currently underneath the coffee table and made a dive for it. I snatched it up before James could and in the next second, the two laser guns were ripped from his hands and flung across the room. "YES!"

"Oi!"

"Which reminds me," I added as we both made a mad dash for the guns. "If Emma ever asks you what my actual job is, don't answer her!"

"What, why?"

"I dunno, it started as me trying to retain my mysterious charm, but now I think I do it just because it annoys her," I admitted. We both leapt for the guns at the same time and each of us managed to grip one. I got the first shot.

 _Ping!_

"Speaking of Emma!" James called, as he retreated back to his fort. "Where the hell did you guys go after the match? I know you were definitely there with us at some point, but all I can remember is everyone trying to find you guys when the fight broke out, and we were panicking because you'd disappeared!"

"Yeah, if I remember correctly, I think I might've been getting some outside in the alleyway," I said, quietly stalking for his fort.

James snorted from behind the sofa. "Sophisticated, mate, well done."

"Like you've never done it!"

"Not for years!" James called back. "And not with Libby … kind of unfortunately. Nearly did, though apparently I decided that our first time wasn't going to be in an alleyway outside a nightclub."

"Y'know, sometimes I do stop and wonder how the hell we ended up here," I mentioned. I paused for a second, before jumping around the sofa with a yell.

James was unfortunately thinking ahead now and had taken one of the cushions with him to continue using as a shield. He got me several times before I dived over the back and onto the sofa out of the way. James appeared over top, cackling, and I rolled off hastily to avoid his fire.

"You mean us here, playing laser tag?"

"I mean, the only reason we're playing it is because your girlfriend bought it, then had to leave the country before she could give it to her cousin," I pointed out, trying to scramble away on the floor. "Let me repeat, YOUR GIRLFRIEND."

"True," James grinned, jumping over the sofa after me. "and look at you, even! You've got your Emma thing!"

"It isn't a thing."

"Mate, it's totally a thing."

"She basically said the same that next morning," I whined. "I don't get why everyone's making a big deal out of it!"

"The morning?" James paused in his efforts to gun me down, holding up his gun as he eyed me on the floor. "Whoa, are you telling me that she stayed over?"

"Maybe. So?"

I didn't like James' grin. I know that grin. I encouraged that grin and fireworks, tears and the occasional fistfight usually followed that grin. "You clearly don't remember the train ride home, do you?"

"You're tellin' me you do?" I asked.

"Sure," James shrugged. Apparently tired of standing over me, he flopped down onto the floor, crashing on his back as he called a ceasefire. I relaxed slightly (but didn't let go of my weapon) as James continued, "I was sobering up by then and really wanted to get home so I could talk to Libby, so I remember most of it. Molly got arrested again, but Al made sure that none of us admitted to associating her and that we all got on the right train. Bea and Dom passed out the second we got on, I think Rose and Scorpius snogged the entire ride, and your sister was in the crying stage."

"Wow. There's a mental image."

"You and Emma were probably the drunkest of us all."

"We weren't that bad."

"Mate, you guys were talking about registering a patent for 'cheese-pants'."

"… ah. Ok."

"But anyway," James snorted. "I was exhausted, I think I just sat with Al or something, I dunno. We got to your stop and Al made you get out, but fuck me if I wasn't surprised when Emma said she'd walk you home and you let her. You had your arm around her and everything! It was kind of adorable," James added.

"Yeah, according to Emma's memory, we caught the wrong train and ended up in Watford," I said.

"What? Seriously, you were at your stop!" James said, exasperatedly. "You literally live up the road from the station! EMMA, YOU HAD ONE JOB!"

"Still, apparently we got home eventually," I shrugged. "So like … what you're saying is that basically everyone knows about us now. Right?"

James nodded. " _Everyone_ , from Rose to Sebastian Cortez! Well, maybe not him. The rest of my teammates though, definitely."

"Who the hell is Sebastian Cortez?" I asked.

"My team captain!" James answered. "He's a pretty cool bloke. He's a Chaser, and also Emma's celebrity crush. Turns out, she's madly in love with him, even made me introduce her after the match. Thought she was about to pass out, to be honest."

"Who … what?"

My brain suddenly wasn't comprehending anything at the moment and I didn't like the way James was looking at me. It was as if he was waiting for some kind of reaction, although I don't know what he was expecting. Now that he spoke about him, I knew that I'd heard of Sebastian Cortez before. He was extremely well-known in the world of Quidditch, his reputation being the brooding, hot captain that always gets people swooning for some reason. Emma had never even mentioned him. Yow, my chest was wrenching again. Why did Emma always make me feel like I had heart burn?

"Mate," James said. "seriously, don't look at me like that."

"Like what? Shut up," I snapped back.

"Aha," he smirked. "so you DO care. I was wondering!"

"Fuck off, James," I lifted up my gun and casually shot him.

 _Ping_.

"Hey! This is a ceasefire," James complained.

"Then you tell me why the hell you're bothering to tell me about this Sebastian Cortez and why in Merlin's name I should care."

"Because Emma likes him," James shrugged. "You know that crushing, choking feeling you've currently got that makes you want to punch a wall?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah?"

James grinned. "That's jealousy."

 _PING. PING. PING._

"For starters, you're insane," I rolled off the floor into a crouch, taking my aim. "and second – I WILL DESTROY YOU!"

"Ohhhh, not if I destroy you first!" James growled, shooting after me. The bastard managed to get me several times before I could dive back behind the table. As James took cover I spent a fraction of a moment heavily resting my head back against the table, eyes closed. I bit back the scathing remarks I was suddenly coming up with and tried to get over the sudden nauseated feeling. Then, I took a deep breath before snapping open my eyes and sitting back up.

I never liked Sebastian Cortez, anyway.

I turned and aimed over the table, shooting several rounds at James and hitting him multiple times.

"MWAHAHAHA!"

"DAMN IT, FRED!"

* * *

I honestly hesitated contacting Emma again. I almost did several times, before I realised that I just couldn't bring myself to without facing that blinding, crushing feeling again. I didn't like that feeling. It was more intense than I felt on an average day, and I've been in some freaky, life or death situations before! I've felt some pretty intense stuff. Emma wasn't supposed to make me feel like that, she was supposed to make me feel fun, excited, satisfied! Not like I wanted to throw up every time I even looked at my owl.

But eventually, she got in touch with me.

 _Yo, Bonehead –  
_ _Quit being a douchebag. It's James' birthday tonight and I'm gonna be there.  
_ _You better be there as well.  
_ – _Heart the Princess xoxo_

Shit, James' birthday.

It was the 18th of January already and I hadn't even gotten him anything! I end up in this situation every year, so you'd think I would've learnt by now, but apparently not. With a jolt, I realised from the date that I'd actually been sleeping with Emma for over two months now … but it wasn't the time to think about that! I didn't even know what to get James. We'd both changed a lot within the last year, to the point that last year me might not have even recognised this year James. What in the world could he possibly want?

Suddenly, I realised that there really was only one thing he wanted at the moment.

Perfect.

" _Liberty Fletcher, Rome, Italy_!" I yelled into the fireplace only an hour and a half later, scattering Floo Powder into the flames. I sat back on my heels, hoping that my lack of knowing where exactly she was wouldn't affect the magic's work and get me where I needed to be. Italy was only one hour ahead of London, so she had to be awake by now! The flames swirled until eventually, they condensed into what looked like an office inside a tent. Everything was brown, from the makeshift desk made out of a plank of wood on top of two book piles, to the dirty uniform the woman wore. Libby was talking to several other people on her end with her head held high, clearly in charge of the mission or whatever her Cursebreaker project was in Italy at the moment, but I didn't care about interrupting her.

"Hey, Libby!" I called.

She broke off before glancing at the fire in confusion. She nearly swore in surprise.

" _Fred_?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me, we need to talk," I said.

"What did James break this time?" Libby sighed, before turning to her colleagues. "I'm sorry for the interruption, but you lot know what you're doing – yeah, yeah, it's ok, just head out and start without me–" She waited for everyone to leave, before dropping to her knees in front of the fire, copying my stance from down my end. Her stern look rippled through the flames.

"I'm serious," she said. "If he's gone and broken his wrist again–"

"No, noooo, he hasn't done anything," I cut her off. "Blimey, it's like you think I can't look out for him!"

Libby just barked with laughter. "Fred," she said, gesturing to basically all of me.

"Oh, shut up," I rolled my eyes. "and just listen! It's James' birthday today and you're coming home for it."

"Oh. Fred, I know," Libby's voice dropped gently. "I even looked into Portkeys, but in all seriousness, I can't get out of here. We have this huge project meeting tomorrow morning and digging all day today, the most I could come for is overnight, but the price just isn't worth it–"

"You don't need to worry about that," I waved this off. "I'm paying."

"What? Fred–"

"Don't argue, because I already did it!" I said, quickly. I summoned over the piece of parchment that was her ticket receipt and said, "You're on record, just go into the Rome Portkey Office. You leave at seven this evening. You're welcome."

"Oh my god," Libby looked simply stunned. "You really did that?"

"Course I did!" I scoffed. "It's his birthday gift. Plus, you're pretty cool, too."

"Oh, Fred," Libby grinned. "I adore you, thank you so much!"

"Don't mention it," I snorted. "Party's in the courtyard, be there or be square."

"I'll be there!" Libby said. "And once I am back in the country, you and me are going out. Dinner or something, I'll even pay."

"Aw, Libby, you really know how to treat a bloke," I said, hand on my heart.

Libby laughed. "I'll see you tonight, then. I'm sorry, I've really got to get back to work now–"

"Go, go ahead, dig up dead things and break some curses," I said, waving her off. "I'll see ya later."

"See you!"

I mean, it really couldn't be James' birthday without a party, and this way, Libby got to be here finally! Last year, I remember James invited her, but she'd never showed. They hadn't been together then. I actually don't even know if they were friends then, but either way, Libby failing to be at his birthday was a tradition none of us wanted to continue. Libby _was_ cool. And let me tell you, it was bloody torture not saying anything as we set up the courtyard later that evening once James had come back from Quidditch training. I nearly let something slip as we strung up fairy lights around the courtyard walls.

"… can't BELIEVE we're both 25 now!" I was saying, wand between my teeth as I stepped back and ensured that the lights weren't going to fall down. "Quarter of a century! This has to be one hell of a party, I won't settle for anything less."

"Don't say quarter of a century like that, you're making me feel like I should be in a wheelchair," James grumbled at me. "but don't worry, I've got the Quidditch lot coming along tonight, so it'll certainly be a riot!"

"But that means Sebastian Cortez," I suddenly blurted out without thinking.

James shot me an amused look over his shoulder. "Yeah, hopefully Emma doesn't pass out," he snorted.

"Quit joking, you did that on purpose," I grumbled.

"They're my friends!"

"You're outta control, mate," I rolled my eyes. "I can't wait till–" But I cut myself off hastily because finishing that with _till Libby gets here_ would ruin basically everything. Instead, I just flicked my wand at the nearest plastic table, sending it crashing into James. The bastard just laughed at me.

I tried not to think about Emma arriving as the party got swinging and people started turning up. Instead, I focused on the time and making sure that Libby got here along with drinking a LOT of Firewhiskey. I noticed the moment that some of James' team members started arriving, since heads turned throughout the courtyard and people gasped and gossiped eagerly in response. Honestly! They're not THAT fucking special! For the first time, I actually took notice of Sebastian Cortez. The amount of information I had on this guy was literally all that I had read from varying Quidditch magazines, so my knowledge was really limited to just 'he's single'. He arrived in the courtyard, looking all suave and shit, and had a foreign look about him, like maybe he had Spanish in him or something. Ok, fine I could see how girls might go for him, but please! Like he was hot shit!

I drained my latest Firewhiskey. I was going to need a lot more alcohol to get through this.

It was just after seven, and I was waiting out by the doors to the courtyard for Libby when I noticed her. I'd just caught a glimpse of frizzy brown hair and my heart leapt into my throat. I hadn't seen her in about two weeks since the match, and unfortunately, she hadn't grown warts or extra arms in that time. Nooope, she managed to look as fine as ever! I mean, that hair was always going to be untameable, but I was willing to look past it in favour of those hands. I liked those hands. And her lips. And her laugh …

Fuck.

She was talking animatedly with James and Rose, so I forced myself to wrench my eyes away and instead, drink more Firewhiskey. Firewhiskey will make everything better! It was another good fifteen minutes before Libby showed up, a distant door slamming before she was suddenly running down the hallway from her flat, still in her dusty Cursebreaker uniform and shaking out her hair hastily.

"I'm sorry, I got caught up, nearly missed the Portkey!" Libby called. She ran straight into a hug, which kind of threw me off, but I wound my arms around her pretty quick. She made a contented noise before squeezing me once and letting go. "Seriously, thank you for doing this!"

"'s no problem, Lib!" I said. "C'mon, let's getcha in there–"

"Whoa, someone's been hitting it hard," Libby noticed as I pulled away from the doors and nearly fell over.

"Hush, you," I told her as we stepped into the crowd. Scanning faces for James was a lot more dizzying than it really should be, but eventually I spotted him across the courtyard, now chatting to several friends that his Quidditch mates had dragged along to the party. "You wait here, I'll announce ya!"

"Got it," Libby saluted me as I took off through the crowd.

"James, mate!" I yelled when I was close enough, slamming into him. One of the girls he was talking to shrieked as beer splashed over her. Oh, well. "You've gotta come with me."

"Huh?" James said.

"I said come with me!"

"Fred, no offence mate, but nothing good ever follows words like that …"

For god's sake. "Just come and listen!" I insisted, before dragging him away into the middle of the courtyard. James looked utterly bewildered as I grabbed the nearest plastic chair and, ignoring the way it bent slightly, climbed on top of it. I yelled, "OI!" which eventually got everyone around to shut up and listen, turning to face me. I looked up and saw Libby slinking through the crowd, getting closer to James unnoticed.

"'sup, bitches!" I called out. "My name's Fred and I'm James' best mate! Everyone tell 'im happy birthday!"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" everyone screamed. James laughed as Libby silently moved in closer.

"Mate, I love ya!" I continued yelling into the crowd. I hadn't exactly planned on saying much, but apparently I drank too much. "You're a brilliant mate, and I know I can be kinda shitty to you sometimes, so thanks for like, not killin' me and stuff. Now, the reason I've stopped this epic party … I've got a present for ya!"

Everyone cheered and clapped as James threw me an exasperated, "Geez, seriously?" but I ignored that. I caught Libby's eye behind him and she exchanged a grin with me. "Yes, seriously," I told my best friend. "And you better think I'm brilliant after this, 'cause it took a lot of planning!"

Well, if you can call randomly calling up Libby this morning after buying a Portkey ticket on a whim 'a lot of planning', but the point stands. I put thought into this! James honestly looked a little touched. I think people had noticed Libby now as she stepped forward, since Rose who had been hanging by backed away and several others giggled and whispered to each other. James raised an eyebrow and said,

"Oh, go on. What is it?"

I smirked. "Turn around."

James did so. Everyone cheered as he yelled, "LIBBY!" before utterly hurling himself at her. Libby sure knows how to do hugs! People kept clapping as they continued to embrace each other, James whispering something before they were suddenly kissing long and hard.

"Hey!" I added, clambering off my chair and moving forward. "At least thank me first!"

Thank me they did, finally. They weren't willing to let go of each other, so I ended up hugging the both of them. I think they went back to snogging each other the second I moved away, so I decided to leave them be for the moment. Triumphant that this idea had somehow miraculously worked out, I set off through the chattering party once more, suddenly a lot happier than I had been earlier! I didn't even feel like I needed another Firewhiskey, which had to be a plus.

Course, that's when I saw her again.

We all know I've been steadily avoiding her all night. I've also been avoiding him, because who the fuck cares about Sebastian Cortez, amiright? But there they were, the two of them _chatting_ , standing together between the rubbish bins and a crate of Firewhiskey. What a fucktard. She was smiling, cheeks blazing red, a look I hadn't seen much of because Emma had thankfully been so sure of herself and Miss Sassy Pants, lately. Sebastian simply looked like a twat. I might have been able to handle that, watching them smile and flirt and look genuinely happy.

BUT THAT'S WHEN SEBASTIAN FUCKING KISSED HER.

Just …

What.

NOPE.

Oh, hellll to the –

 _WHAT. THE. FUCK._

It didn't look like anything special, and I KNOW kissing Emma. Kissing Emma is my specialty! Kissing Emma is an art, there's a certain way to it, you don't just leap in with your fucking tongue and hope for the best! He was holding her face and she wasn't moving away. What the hell does he know? WHY DID SHE LOOK LIKE SHE WAS ENJOYING IT?

Fuck this.

"Hey!"

I was storming forward before I could think about it. In fact, I don't even know what was happening; it felt like the Firewhiskey I'd drunk too much of was suddenly burning in my stomach, threatening to spread up my throat and to the rest of my body. I barely even noticed anything beyond her. She was stammering awkwardly now, red in the face as Sebastian grinned and fuck him for grinning, _you're not allowed to grin_! They didn't hear me over the music of the party, so I yelled out again so that they both turned and noticed me. Emma's face quickly transformed into one I didn't recognise, but Sebastian looked instantly wary.

Probably because it was clear I was going to murder him.

"Yeah, hey, how's it goin'–?" I asked casually.

Then, I punched him in the face.

Emma shrieked. Everyone else jumped back as Sebastian cried out and clutched at his nose. I didn't think I'd hit him hard enough to actually break anything, but I felt strangely satisfied when I noticed a spot of blood between his fingers. "Whooo!" I cried, shaking out my hand, which actually kind of hurt a lot.

"Fred … what …?" Emma could barely speak.

"You're welcome!" I yelled, before turning around and storming away.

Don't ask me what just happened. My hands were shaking, my body was still burning and the only answer I can give you is I think I just went a little crazy … maybe a lot crazy. I thundered through the party, ignoring everyone and not really knowing where I was going, just knowing that I needed another drink and to get out of here, not necessarily in that order! The pounding of feet caught up just as I left the courtyard and stumbled out into the building hallway. I heard the door swing open and suddenly, a hand had caught my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Emma yelled.

I jerked back from her. "Oh, hey," I said, pleasantly. "How's things?"

"How's things–?! You just PUNCHED someone, Fred!" Emma cried, flinging her arms in the air.

"Really?" I mused. "Funny, that'll explain why my hand hurts–"

"Goddamn it, Fred, now isn't the time!" Emma positively shrieked. Blimey, I think my eardrums just burst. "You can't just go around punching people who kiss me! It doesn't work like that, you said it doesn't, you have no right–!"

"Who says I punched him just because he kissed you?" I scowled.

"Are you telling me there's ANOTHER reason?"

I shrugged. "His face was crooked, thought I might help correct it."

"SO HELP ME, FRED–"

"Hey Sweetheart, I don't know what you want me to tell you!" I suddenly yelled back. "I don't fucking care about Sebastian Cortez, I don't care about you and I definitely don't give a flying fuck about what you think! So I don't have to explain a single damn thing–"

"–if it affects me, you do," Emma cut in, fiercely.

I glared her down for several moments, the two of us standing inches from each other down that hallway. A couple of people came and went through the doors behind us, giving us furtive looks, but I was too busy trying to ignore Emma's logic. Ok, yeah, so maybe I owed her a bit of an explanation, but SERIOUSLY, what was I supposed to say?! No matter which way I put it, no matter what I told her, there really was no way to get around the fact that I apparently cared about her potentially seeing other people, even though we had agreed not even two weeks ago that weren't going to. I wasn't supposed to care, it wasn't ALLOWED to happen, but I punched him for a reason, and even I'm not so fucking stupid as to try and tell myself that I did it for the hell of it.

"I didn't like him kissing you!" I found myself suddenly yelling.

"Why?"

"I don't know – hell, Emma, I'm fucking drunk here–"

"Listen, Bonehead!" Emma yelled. "I am not afraid to–!"

I stopped listening. I grabbed her behind the head and kissed her swiftly. Roughly five seconds later, she wrenched herself back before shoving me hard in the chest.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

"So I have issues!" I yelled back. "Just please have sex with me!"

Emma glared, those blue eyes practically steaming with anger. Then, she stormed forward and grabbed my collar so that she could pull me down and kiss me back. _Yes_. My hands immediately went to her waist, yanking her unceremoniously into me. Her fingers didn't let go and her pulling at the shirt around my neck was starting to hurt, but I didn't stop her. I kept her body locked against mine as we kissed furiously in the middle of the hallway. This I could deal with, this I could handle, blocking out my mind as I just focused on her practically keening as I thrust my hips into hers. She was obviously still very mad at me from the way that she angrily sighed into my lips. Maybe she was disappointed in her reaction, maybe she was just disappointed in me. But I pulled away and nipped at her jaw and still managed to make her gasp. I took a deep raggard breath against her neck before continuing to kiss roughly down her throat.

She snaked her arms up over my back as she said breathlessly,

"I'm going to hell for this."

"We both are, Princess," I growled back.

* * *

A/N: Fred Weasley, everyone, having _zero fuckin' chill_.

I feel like every chapter of this story is more insane than the last (this coincides with chapter 33 of WJML), BUT THANK YOU FOR STILL READING IT. I can't express how much I appreciate those of you who have taken the time to yell at me how much they are liking it so far. Please keep doing it, it's the only way I know I'm doing ok and that the story is even any good. Otherwise I sit here thinking weeeelp, I suck, haha.

I love you all and you could even review one word if you wanted and I'd appreciate it anyhow. I'll even provide examples: FREMMA, MOONWHY, or perhaps FUCK?

Anyway, until next time -

\- Moon. :D

PS. Also, yesterday was my 24th birthday (yay me!) and I went to London for the day. Turns out that FRED AND EMMA ARE ALIVE, PEOPLE because I swear to fucking god that I saw them. I was walking along Waterloo Bridge when I saw this couple walking towards me. He was tall, black and grinning at this girl like he was trying to be charming/cool but really just looked like the heart-eye emoji, while the girl looked like she was telling a story. She was much shorter than him and had beautiful curly brown hair and HOLYYYY SHIT I nearly died. They were gone before I could think to try take a blurry photo, but I can die happy now, knowing that my babies are alive and probably living together somewhere in London. :D


	6. That one time things got out of hand

That One Time I Fell In Love  
(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 6: That one time things started to get out of hand.

What is it about angry sex?

By all accounts, it should not be hot. You're pissed at each other, you should be wanting to kill them, rather than screw them! But you can't help the rush of arousal when it calls and let's face it, any argument can apparently be solved with sex. I just didn't care at this point and neither, apparently, did Emma. I think she was the one who Apparated us, because lord knows I was too far gone to think about it. The next thing I knew, we were staggering across my kitchen floor, refusing to let go of each other. My head was boiling over, anger flared every single time I remembered that FUCKING KISS and I didn't care that I was bordering on possessive and needy. I devoured her lips, hearing her whimper as I sucked her bottom one between my teeth. I just needed to prove to her that I was better. I was here, she could have me any time she bloody liked and damnit, _she needed to know that!_

"Bed – bedroom–" she gasped after several minutes, breaking away from me.

"No," I insisted. I had a better idea. My fingers were probably bruising at her hips, but I didn't soften my grip. I pushed her back until she hit the edge of the kitchen table. She let out an, " _Ouch_ ," but if I'd actually hurt her, she would be chewing my head off by now. So I just searched for her lips again and she met me halfway. Furious was an apt descriptor. Emma was literally livid, and she kissed with about as much force as she might've done if she'd just decided to hit me instead. Huh, Sebastian, I bet you didn't fucking kiss her like this, did you? YOU DON'T EVER GET TO KISS HER LIKE THIS. My dick was throbbing and I realised that I was grinding against her, causing her to groan.

"We – we don't do this again–" Even as she spoke she was hitching up onto the table, wrapping her legs around my waist. "You don't – get to – _goooood_ –"

"Actually, it's Fred," I growled.

"We don' do this again!" Emma burst out angrily once more. "I'm serious, this doesn't solve anythin', and I'm still incredibly mad at you!"

"Whatever, talk to me later, Princess–" I lowered my mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking down to that exposed collar bone I knew she had a thing for. In the meantime, I let my hands roughly wander her body. They snaked up under her sparkly party shirt and into her bra.

"I fucking hate you sometimes – _oh, Jesus, keep doin' that_ –"

I did. I kept doing it until she was breathing frantically and drawing me in closer with her legs. I didn't care that she hated me. I know I'm a fucktard, ok? I know that I suck, but I _literally did not care_. All I could see was that fucking kiss like it was goddamn burned into my brain, and I could literally feel the fire hissing at me to do something about it! I wasn't going to stop until I had literally fucked it out of her on my kitchen table.

There's a line at some point, and I didn't know if we'd crossed it when eventually, we'd collapsed against each other. We got rough sometimes, there's no denying that. But we never genuinely hurt each other, and I know that _that_ had just been … I rolled off her and we lay side by side on top of my kitchen table, our legs still dangling off the edge. She had an arm over her eyes as she tried to get her breathing back to normal and I looked at her. I could already see red and purple marks colouring her neck and chest and I bit back a sudden rush of regret. I knew immediately that I'd been too harsh.

We didn't move a long time. I didn't know if she was going to say something, so I didn't either. Now that I was coming down off the endorphins and shit, I think I was starting to feel the effects of drinking too much alcohol. Blimey, I was no doubt going to be sick if I even so much as opened my mouth!

But I couldn't take much more of this.

"I … I'm sorry," I managed, voice scratchy. "I know I was rough on you."

Emma sighed, letting her arm fall away. She looked resigned. "I'm fine, Fred."

"I didn't ask if you were fine, I said I was sorry."

She didn't answer. She just sat up and shakily hopped off my table. I couldn't move for fear of throwing up, so I could only watch as she bent down to fix her clothes, ensuring that nothing was out of place before silently walking out of the room.

I heard the whoosh of the fireplace. I didn't get up.

* * *

Thankfully I had the foresight to eventually drag myself into the shower (where I finally threw up a few times for good measure) before crawling into bed to die, because James came crashing around the very next day. It was one in the afternoon, but I was only just shuffling into the kitchen, jabbing my wand at the kettle before shooting my kitchen table an accusatory look. What, like I could blame it? I had just muttered, "Oh, fuck this," and was rummaging around my cupboards as the kettle boiled to find some Mrs Skower's when James whirled in.

"FRED!" he yelled.

"Oh, hello," I said warily, sticking my head out from around the door to the kitchen. James stood there in the doorway, looking a little bleary eyed and kind of down, but he'd slammed open my front door without even knocking.

"Have a good time last night?" I asked casually.

"Libby left for Italy again a couple of hours ago," James huffed. "So yeah, my birthday party was rad. BUT TO MY POINT, what the hell was going on with you last night?!"

"Tea?" I offered, holding up the kettle currently in my hands around the corner so that he could see.

"I thought you usually drank coffee?" James asked, finally shutting the door and moving towards the kitchen.

"Apparently I've run out. Tea's all I have left."

"Why do you even _have_ tea?" James snorted.

I realised that the only response to that statement was, ' _Emma drinks tea_ ,' so I naturally stayed silent. James raised an eyebrow but thankfully didn't address the obvious avoidance of such a simple question.

"Seriously, mate," he continued, walking across the kitchen. "I don't know what's going on with you anymore–"

"Oh, I wouldn't sit there," I called over, noticing that he was pulling out a chair. "I haven't cleaned the table yet."

"Why do you need to–? EW, FRED!" James leapt back in disgust.

"DUDE, can we quit with the yelling?" I moaned, rubbing my head. "Some of us only just woke up!"

"Hey, I didn't go to bed till like, seven in the morning!" James whined, wiping his hand against his jeans, like that was going to do anything. "And you're the one apparently going round punching out all my mates, so don't talk to me about not yelling. SERIOUSLY, why did you punch Sebastian last night? He's never gonna want to come to any of my parties again!"

"I don't like him," I just shrugged, having finished making tea and now hastily shoving James out of the kitchen and back through into the lounge. Not that the sofa was much safer in terms of where we'd done it, but at least I'd cleaned it recently.

"Clearly," James snorted. "Was Emma pissed? I never got a chance to speak to her after."

"Yeah, she was pissed – look, do we really have to talk about it?" I asked, exasperatedly.

"Fred, you NEVER say anything about Emma," James rolled his eyes, flopping dramatically down into the sofa cushions, his tea slightly spilling onto his shirt. "And you're the one who rudely interrupted my birthday with your dramatic shenanigans, so YEAH, we're bloody talking about it! You can't just go round punching out people who kiss her."

"For god's sake–"

"Or maybe you can, I don't know how your weird thing works," James mentioned.

"She can kiss whoever the fuck she wants," I grumbled.

"So that's ok, then?" James pressed. "You're not exclusive?"

"It's a rule, I don't know – she was the one who wanted to make rules!"

"Boundaries are probs a good thing, mate. I'd say that way you can't get mad, but clearly both of you did last night! If kissing other people is ok, why'd you punch him?"

I said nothing.

James hid a smirk behind his mug of tea as I glared. "I think you're starting to–"

" _Shut up_."

"But you like her!" James cried. "Fred, this is adorable, you actually have feelings for someone–!"

"No, really, _shut the fuck up_ ," I thundered.

"Man, I can't wait till Libby–"

"That's it!" I thumped him on the shoulder, causing him to yelp slightly. "Libby is not hearing a word about this, you hear? There's nothing to even tell, because I'm denying everything! Yeah, ok, I guess I got kind of jealous and possessive and I punched him in response. I'm not saying it was my best reaction, and I certainly don't like her like that!"

James continued to look sceptical as he rubbed his sore arm. However, he answered, "Ok, sure. Whatever, I'll believe you. In that case, you really need to get out more, Fred. Maybe kiss some other people yourself. When was the last time we went for a drink or something?"

"Um, never?" I said. "Since all you do is whine about Libby these days."

"What? I never, I–! Ok, so I'm boring," James snorted, not even bothering to try. "Look, I can't believe I'm even encouraging this, because lord knows I bloody ship it. But if you don't like her like you say you do, then you need to get over the possessive thing, because acting like that is not ok."

"Mate … are you seriously acting as the voice of reason here?"

James wrinkled his nose. "Blimey, I think I am."

"Well, I guess we know the world's ending, then."

"No, the world ends when YOU are the rational one," James snorted. "And I promise, I'll take ya out for that drink sometime soon! Merlin knows that I do nothing once I get home from training. I just lie around my cold and empty flat, with no beautiful Libby to keep me warm anymore–"

"For Merlin's sake, she'll be back in two weeks," I rolled my eyes.

James grinned at that so I glanced up. "I've been meaning to say," he added, lightly. "Seriously thank you for getting Libby back here for my birthday. I know I thanked you last night, but we were all a little bit drunk and there was the aforementioned Punching Incident, so I want to say it again now. We had a blast and it was the best present you could've gotten me."

"Whatever," I said, but I found myself grinning anyway.

* * *

I really didn't expect an owl from her.

Let's face it, I've been a dick. I wouldn't even want an owl from me, and I'm ME! But of course I sent one anyway, because I'm selfish, not to mention the fact that we'd left it on such a bad note that I didn't like living with the sour taste in my throat. Despite how angry we'd both been, that had been some of the best sex we'd ever had, only now I couldn't even look at my kitchen table without feeling bad! Fucking conscience.

However, my one owl turned into multiple owls, which subsequently turned into quite the spectacular one-sided conversation as Emma continued to not answer me back:

 _Emma –  
_ _I'm a dick. Sorry. Come round.  
_ – _F_

 _E –  
_ _Look, I know I suck, I'M SORRY.  
_ _I'll let you do whatever you want, just come round.  
_ – _F_

 _Hey Princess,  
_ _I know we're not really into the bondage thing after the first time, but if tying me up will make you feel better, I'm willing to attempt it again.  
_ _JUST SAYIN'_

 _Yooooooo,  
_ _I dunno why I'm sending this  
_ _I'm still sorry_

 _EMMA  
_ _Did you know that people who have regular sex are ten times more likely to live long and healthy lives?  
_ _True story_

 _Come on, Princess  
_ _Work is boring tf outta me  
_ _My boss listens to this oldies Muggle radio station all day  
_ _He refuses to change the station  
_ _If I have to listen to any more songs from the 2010s, I will curse myself_

 _FUN FACT ABOUT FRED #1:  
_ _I cannot sing to save my life  
_ _(I also still suck, apparently)_

This all culminated until finally, I got an owl back:

 _To Fred,  
_ _This is Emma's flatmate. STOP SENDING HER SHIT. Otherwise she will block your owl.  
_ _Also, it's fucking annoying.  
_ _Thank you,  
_ _Charmaine (Emma's flatmate)._

That was the point where I figured I'd bordered the line into creepy, so I stopped. I mean, the fact that she was apparently on the verge of blocking me meant nothing (mainly because I'm fairly certain that my permanently drunk owl, Ravi, was also part demon and could get in anywhere if I asked him to!) but I figured that continuing to harass her with my nonsensical thoughts wasn't the way to apologise. I know most of you probably find me abhorrent and disgusting (EMMA APPARENTLY DOES) but I know when no fucking means no, ok?

So partly because I finally managed to finish my paperwork, but mostly because I needed to get away from my boss, I found myself crashing the Auror Office. It had been two weeks since James' birthday and I was still trying not to think about her, but walking into the office certainly helped distract my mind.

I had apparently walked into the middle of a raging party!

"WE DID IT!" Yael was yelling with glee as I approached. He was in the middle of spraying champagne over everyone in the middle of the lobby, his colleagues hooting and cheering alongside him.

"Bastard's going to Azkaban!" Kayla cried, punching the air.

"What the hell?" I asked, bewildered as I stared at the chaos within the Auror Office

"FRED!" Yael cried, just noticing me. Actually, I think he really was crying for real as he took a swig of the champagne. He held it out and I hastily took it as several others clapped me on the back in delight, still hollering in my ears. "You won't believe it! We finally arrested him!"

"No way!" I said, staring in amazement. "You honest to god got him?"

"We even managed to save his latest victim!" Yael choked back a sob behind his hand and several others laughed and piled on top of him.

"Caught him in the act, there's no way the son of a bitch is getting out," Kayla added, turning up and squeezing my shoulders. "He's going away for the rest of his miserable life!"

"Holy shit, guys!" I yelled, grinning as Yael moved out from under all the people to hug me as well. The fully-grown Auror was literally sobbing into my shoulder, Kayla laughing as she gestured for the champagne. I took a drink before handing it over.

I knew that Auror Yael Ingleson, his partner, Auror Kayla Grover and their team of Homicide Aurors had been chasing what was known as the Reddale Killer for the better part of five years now. I'd been there almost every step of the way, ever since the first time he was arrested on minor charges and scarpered while out on bail. Nobody had known at the time what he was actually capable of. Out of all the agents in the city associated with the office … they'd called me to go and get him.

Ok fine, so I admit that that's my job.

I'm a bounty hunter, but please, my technical title is Bail Enforcement Agent! I'm actually employed by the Magical National Insurance Company, rather than the Auror Office, but I naturally work closely alongside them sometimes. I don't even know why exactly I keep making a joke out of it with Emma. It just seems like one of those things that we weren't supposed to talk about … I guess we have a lot of things we don't talk about. Whatever. But what you do for a living is a date question, a question you ask someone you actually want to get to know. I had no intention of getting to know Emma at all, so if I still had no idea how old she was, then she couldn't know what my job was!

… there was logic in there somewhere.

I eventually managed to peel Yael off me and fob him off onto another one of his team members. Kayla was next to me and still currently drinking the champagne that she'd taken from me. She then called over at Agent Sapphire Bates, a fellow bail agent and a girl that I'd been avoiding sleeping with for over five years now.

"Kayla!" Sapphire cried, immediately accepting the champagne. "Oh, and the mighty Fred!" she added once she noticed me.

"Can you believe this shit?" I grinned.

"I thought the guy was in the wind for good," Sapphire admitted, catching the attention of an Auror behind her and passing on the champagne. "Honestly!"

"It's going to be all over the news once this arrest is released, you just watch," Kayla piped up.

"Yeah, last I heard, he'd changed his identity again," I admitted, turning to Kayla. "Did you guys ever find out his real name?"

"Nah," Kayla shook her head. "He's refusing to talk, naturally. Huntley reckons that unless we can figure it out then he's going to walk, but the case is airtight. We'll prove it's him."

"I can't believe this!" I said. "I literally only came in to hand in some paperwork, and I found the entire place going nuts!"

Sure enough, it seemed that news of the apparently recent arrest was spreading. I had barely gotten as far as the main lobby to the Auror Office on level 2 of the Ministry of Magic, before I'd been crashed into by Yael and his team. The Homicide Division was on the other side of the entire office, for crying out loud! The more time went on, the more Aurors started filing out of their small offices and looking up from desks in the bullpens to see what the hell was going on. Even Heads of Departments were congratulating each other, like old and burly Head Auror Huntley of the Homicide Division (a pain in the arse if I ever met one – didn't like me for some reason, though I can't fathom why).

"You're going to come out with us, right Fred?" Sapphire asked excitedly. "I've got a case, but I'm waiting on surveillance. We're all going down to the pub on the corner by the train station, the Muggle one we usually go to?"

"For you girls, of course!" I said at once.

I would never pass up an opportunity like this. Not only was it exactly what James had told me to do (and let's face it, Emma wasn't going to owl me back anytime soon), but the end of murderers who'd evaded capture for this long usually came about because of their deaths. Strangely enough, a lot of them seemed to prefer killing themselves over going to Azkaban. Not that serial cases like this were all that common, but the point being that we NEVER got to celebrate an honest-to-god arrest! Yael and Kayla had been chasing this ever since they'd been made partners on this case, and I knew how much it meant to them and all that shit, so YEAH. I'M CELEBRATING.

And like, if Sapphire wanted to shag me as well, I wouldn't say _no_.

I stayed at the Auror Office after actually dropping off my paperwork like I was supposed to do, hanging out with the team happily until five o'clock rolled around. It might've even been earlier, since the champagne had created a buzz and the Heads were feeling lenient, apparently. Either way, we moved out of the magically concealed Ministry building and to the Muggle pub down the road. It felt like half the bloody Auror Office was crashing in at once, singing loudly and ordering half a dozen pints on the spot.

"I hope you didn't have any plans tonight!" Sapphire told me a couple of hours later, dropping heavily into the stool next to mine. She overshot slightly and nearly went falling backwards out of it with a slight shriek, "WHOOA–" I threw an arm out to catch her hastily and shove her back upright.

Sapphire started cackling at the motion, turning to look at me. I swear, she saw right through me. I mean, I don't have to tell you that she's _fucking gorgeous_ , right? She'd apparently dyed her hair since the last time I saw her, going from her usually golden blond to platinum white, one side of her head shaved while the rest cascaded down over her shoulder. Sapphire's brown eyes glittered from the amount of cider she'd consumed and I wondered if she ever thought about me the same way I thought about her sometimes ( _that I kiiiinda want to fuck her six ways to Sunday_ ).

But, dude. Come on.

We saw each other on a fairly regular basis and essentially worked together.

RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™

I think this is proof that yes, Fred Weasley does actually know how to keep it in his pants when faced with a hot woman he really shouldn't be sleeping with! Which said something about Emma that I didn't want to address. Typically, I was very good at keeping a lid on the Hot Colleague Boner (mate, I've known Sapphire for YEARS, I had to be good at it) but I'll admit that sitting there in front of her, it was starting to unscrew. Why the hell shouldn't I be going for it? It would be wild and meaningless and for nothing but sexual gratification, that was what I was all about! That was what I needed.

That was what I wanted, right?

"Trust me, my only plans are right here," I grinned at her.

"Oh, there it is," Sapphire grinned at me, leaning an elbow on the sticky table between us. "I thought your usual Fred-charm had disappeared for a moment there."

"Aw, for you, darlin', it never disappears," I told her.

"I haven't even seen you in a while," Sapphire added, vaguely gesturing in my direction. "Have any jobs recently?"

"Got one guy in earlier this week," I shrugged. "I dunno, everyone's keepin' to their paroles these days."

"Good thing, otherwise you wouldn't be here with us!"

"The hell I wouldn't," I said at once. "If this fucker's going to Azkaban, I ain't missing the party!"

"You must be thrilled," Sapphire grinned, her head tilting from where it was rested on top of her hands. "Wasn't this guy your bounty at one point?"

"The first time he escaped, yeah."

I wasn't going to forget the case any time soon. It was back when I was barely out of my teen years, full of bright ideas of an exciting and dangerous life as a bounty hunter, catching bad guys and shit. I had no fucking clue really what this job was actually like. Turns out that most of the time, you're talking reasonably with criminals to get them back to the courtroom (this job is literally about 80% negotiation) and I'd been bored and restless at first. When they'd assigned me to the Reddale case completely none the wiser, I would have jumped the gun on anything! At least getting the stuffing knocked outta me that case helped screw my head on straight.

"So you gotta celebrate even more!" Sapphire insisted. I'd finished my latest drink, so she shoved the remainder of hers into my hands. "C'mon! Drink more so we can join in with the loud and off-key karaoke! Yael's been serenading us the last half hour, and it won't bloody do."

"What, are you gonna get up there?"

"If you'll come with me," she smirked.

"Oh, I'll come with you …"

Sapphire almost choked with laughter. "How many times have you used that line, Fred?"

"Quite honestly, that literally just occurred to me."

She was looking at me with that look again, head in her hands and the low bar lights hitting her face and casting shadows. I could hear Yael singing from across the pub, sounding rather like an accordion had got stuck in his throat. Sapphire was smiling and significantly buzzed and _why the fuck not?_ There was a physical attraction to her, no kidding, and if she was a stranger that I'd just met, then that was literally all I needed. I didn't need the personal connection, I didn't need that click you sometimes just get with certain people. I could do this!

I leaned over the bar and her eyes widened a split second before I actually kissed her. All flirting aside, I don't think she'd actually expected it. I couldn't do tender or fierce (lest she scratch my eyes out), but I could do something in the middle. Something a bit slower, like exploring, feeling her respond and move her lips with mine. She made a slight contented noise and nudged with her tongue but that was when I suddenly felt … _nauseated_.

This didn't feel good.

DUDE. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I've imagined kissing this woman for fucking years, she's actually not throwing me off her, and I'm literally only _now_ discovering that oh no, actually, I DON'T LIKE IT? I am an utter disgrace! I can't even begin to explain this to myself but I realised in that moment of kissing her that I just … didn't feel it. Which doesn't make sense. Of course she was attractive, and I could have probably made myself go through with it, but I can tell you right here on this sticky barstool that I knew it wouldn't be worth it. Because as hot as she is, I think my body was telling me that while I could appreciate it, it didn't want it. Maybe I could have brought myself to enjoy it, but what was the fucking point? I knew exactly where I could get mind-blowing sex from, and it wasn't Sapphire.

I suddenly yanked back.

"Fred …?" Sapphire swayed slightly, having to force her eyes to focus on me.

"Whoa … _fuck_ ," I exclaimed, letting her go.

"Ok, what gives?" Sapphire huffed, apparently realising that I wasn't going to resume kissing any time soon. She leaned her head in her hand again, but her expression this time was irritation with a side of exasperation. "You've always said that you don't wanna sleep with me because we work together and I've respected that! But youuuu just kissed me. You owe me some fucking answers, my friend!"

"Look, gorgeous – I mean Sapphire – bloody Merlin …" I rubbed my forehead warily. She continued to just sit there looking sceptical, so I continued on, "I shouldn't have kissed you like that. Sorry."

"Sorry ain't gonna cut it," Sapphire snorted. "I mean, don't worry, my feelings ain't hurt! I've known you for too long. But I need a better explanation than that."

"Sorry girl, I don't have a better explanation."

" _But why did you kiss me?_ "

"I DON'T KNOOOOW!" I cried, throwing my hands up.

Sapphire just scoffed with laughter. "When was the last time you even had sex, Fred? Maybe it's just been so long, you're about to throw yourself at the first girl you see!"

"Fuck you, I had sex two weeks ago," I grumbled.

"Two weeks?" Sapphire teased. "Isn't that like, a whole year, for you?"

"Well, we might've had sex again if she would just owl me back!" I said dramatically.

I hadn't even considered the implications of such a statement until Sapphire's eyes started bugging out of her head. " _Oh my god_ ," she said, even as I immediately began talking over her, "NOPE, no, I mean–"

" _Fred, are you seeing someone_ –?"

"NOPE, NOPITY NOPE–"

"Holy shit!" Sapphire laughed as I gave up with a groan, gesturing to the bartender frantically. "Is THAT what this was all about?"

"I'm not seeing anyone!"

"Oh, so we're flat out denying this shit now?"

"I didn't mean that like you thought it meant!" I scowled. "I'm not – we're not – we just sleep together sometimes …"

"Who the hell is she?"

"A friend of – look, it doesn't _matter_ ," I said exasperatedly. "God, we fucking need more alcohol up in here – YO, BARKEEP–!"

While I waited impatiently for the bartender to make their way down towards where we were waiting, Sapphire was apparently taking the opportunity to talk non-stop. "Course it fucking matters!" she was saying excitedly. "Jesus Christ, I don't think you've _ever_ talked about the same woman twice, not like this. If you just sleep together, is it just casual then? Friends with benefits? Are you even friends? Do you hang out? How does that work – _does it work_? Because you're sitting here kissing me and–"

"Thank all that is good and holy – two pints of cider, good sir–" I interrupted quickly as the bartender reached us. I turned to Sapphire and bluntly said, "You're buying."

"I hate you," she said sweetly, even as she dug in her pockets.

"Honey, you know I only have eyes for you," I said dryly.

"If I get enough alcohol in you, will you tell me about her?"

"Oh, that's guaranteed …" I muttered, only I hadn't intended on her hearing that. Rather unfortunately, over the course of the evening she took to the challenge with apparent gusto! You know, I really do think I spend too much of my time getting drunk, lately. It's becoming a bit of a problem. There's just something about Emma that keeps making me want to drown out my thoughts with alcohol! That couldn't be a good thing, if I wanted to keep my liver, not to mention my dignity, intact. I eventually woke up at home in my bed, although I was slightly confused on how I'd gotten there.

I remembered sculling back beers with Yael, celebrating the arrest with everyone else. I remembered Sapphire shoving glasses into my hands. Maybe I remembered her getting me to tell her Emma's name at one point. Merlin's fucking pants, I was going to kill the woman. I hadn't even gotten into bed, apparently, just collapsed on top of it with my shoes still on. I kicked them off with a grumble, considering just lying there until I shrivelled up and DIED, but that was when I heard voices coming from down the hallway.

My eyes snapped open.

I hesitantly shuffled out into the hallway and instantly my chest started hammering. Oh, god. Without a doubt I recognised those voices. One of them was Sapphire, apparently having crashed here and who I definitely remembered kissing at the bar at one point. Great. Hopefully I hadn't accidentally given her too much tongue. She seemed to be in the kitchen and it was unfortunately the other woman's voice she was talking to that had my heart racing frantically, almost painfully.

"… don't worry, girl, I've 'ad many a blackout in my day," Emma was saying to Sapphire kindly. There were shuffling noises as the kettle boiled.

"God, last night was a shit-show," Sapphire answered with a slight moan. "Oh – thank you – our work colleagues caught a breakthrough, so we all went out to celebrate. Got a bit out of hand, you know?"

"I can imagine," Emma was smirking, I knew it. "Wait, so you work with Fred?"

"Kind of, we do the same thing. We've known each other a while."

"What exactly is it that you do?" Emma asked innocently.

"HEEEEEY!" I hastily leapt into the kitchen at that, causing both girls to turn and look at me.

Oh, shit.

Emma, Emma, Emma, what the hell are you doing here? She looked like she'd had a long night, her frizzy brown hair tied back in a messy bun and clutching a mug of tea as she leaned against the kitchen bench. She was in my flat. She's been ignoring my owls for two weeks and now here she was, MAKING TEA IN MY FLAT.

What fresh hell.

"What – what're you–?"

"Doing here?" Emma asked as Sapphire turned to grin. "Yeah, you kind of begged me to come over, or do you not remember that part?"

"Come again?" I asked, trying not to sound too choked.

"Mmm, yeah, I get this owl about three in the morning," Emma mused, her face neutral while Sapphire, the traitor, just tried not to laugh. "I figure, strange time, but you at least sound sincere. I get here to find this lovely young lady passed out on your sofa," she gestured to who was clearly her new best friend, Sapphire. "and you greeting me at the door, blind drunk. You _tried_ to have your wicked way with me, but passed out before you could even get your shoes off. I almost took pity and helped out, but it's not as much fun taking your clothes off when you're unconscious."

Sapphire failed to contain a snort of laughter.

"Ok!" I snapped at once. "Party's over. Sapphire, darlin', it's been great seeing ya, but I'll catch you round the office. We never speak of this again! Agreed? Agreed."

"Aw, but I want to know how this ends!" Sapphire complained as I grabbed her arm and started frog-marching her towards the front door.

"Oh, I bet you do," I growled. I yanked the mug of tea out of her hands before opening and shoving her unceremoniously out of the front door. "BYEEE."

"Wait, Fred–"

SLAM.

That's one girl down. One more to go.

Emma had followed to watch this exchange from the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the jam and still drinking her tea. She was wearing a fluffy brown jumper that almost hit her knees and an unreadable expression. I stared at her a moment. You know, I think it's time I finally stopped and took a good hard look at myself here and asked _what the ever loving fuck was I doing_? Why did I keep insisting on going back to this woman? We had nothing in common. We weren't mates. We … could be. I knew that I was the one who cut off any conversation before it could get in any way personal. I knew that I was the weirdo who didn't even want her to know what my job was. But there was a chemistry that I apparently couldn't stop, no matter how hard I tried. The connection I had with Emma was starting to get too hard to ignore and seeing her earlier standing next to Sapphire had just driven it home even more. I liked Sapphire well enough, however I didn't want to sleep with her at all.

But Emma … set my fucking heart on fire.

Jesus Christ.

"Your turn," I told her, gesturing towards the door.

"Oh, no," she said, apparently draining the last of her tea. "I had to put your arse to bed last night, the least you can do in return is let me get some."

"You've ignored me the last two weeks."

"All the more reason."

"Is that why you're still here?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "No, I'm still here because it was fucking three in the morning! I sat down for like, five seconds, and fell asleep. Look, yeah you messed up and did something stupid. I was pissed off. But I hate being mad, Fred. It's exhausting and quite frankly, your constant owls were starting to make me laugh, so when you drunk-owled me, yeah, I came. Not that I realised you were drunk at the time," she added with a smirk.

"But I was a dick."

"Oh, you're a right cock up, for sure," Emma nodded. "Don't fucking do it again."

"I won't."

"Prove it," Emma challenged.

I should've cut and run on the spot.

I didn't.

I lurched across the hallway and she met my lips halfway. My head was bloody pounding, but my blood was also boiling and it felt too damn good. She'd taken half a step backwards at the force and was still holding onto her mug of almost-finished tea. I wrapped one arm around her waist, hauling her into my body and yanking the mug out of her hands with my other arm. I let it drop onto the nearest kitchen counter with a clatter before adding that arm around her. Emma used my shoulders to climb herself tall enough to reach my lips and kiss back enthusiastically without me having to bend over in half. Her feet don't even touch the floor when I hold her like this. I couldn't even tell you how much time passed as we just kissed in the middle of my kitchen. I wanted to touch her, run my hands up her back under her shirt, but that would involve dropping her. I think Emma caught on, because eventually, she muttered between kisses,

"I think we better … mmm, y'know, get horizontal …"

"My head is _throbbing_ , I hope you realise," I muttered back.

"Your fault," Emma grinned.

I had definitely decided to hell with it, it'd been too long! I'd just down a whole load of hangover-potions later, it'd be worth it. Instead of letting Emma put her feet back on the ground, I simply carried her off towards my room. She kept distracting me by kissing my neck and squirming against my body. When I finally remembered where the bloody hell my bed was, she was bound to feel my own body responding. Damn it, I wanted this to be slow, but …

I eventually managed to kick my bedroom door shut and hastily let Emma down heavily onto her feet next to my bed. She looked a little dazed at the sudden loss of contact, but smirked when she saw me yanking my shirt off over my head. She made to pull off her jumper, but I grabbed her hands, stopping her.

"Oh, no …" I murmured, fingers circling her entire wrists as I leaned in. "You just wait."

She opened her eyes and met my gaze. I think she saw it there, something that told her that I wanted control this time.

"Well? I'm waiting."

I reached down and grabbed her legs, pulling them out from under her. She fell back onto my bed with a surprised yelp and I leaned down with a grin, holding her jean-clad thighs around me as I found her mouth once more. She moaned happily as I leaned in, hands moving to her arse. I needed to feel every inch of her, pulling her body into mine. Her fingers hesitated at my waist, like she was entertaining the idea of touching me back, but she knew better than to intervene. This time was mine. I was admittedly starting to get a little uncomfortable leaning over her like this though, so when she leaned forward so that I could pull her jumper and shirt off her, I crawled onto the bed with her. She moved back so that I had room and suddenly I was crouched between her legs, Emma leaning on her elbows in just her bra and jeans, watching me.

That look said a lot, and I wasn't quite sure why. We don't normally look at each other during sex. That sounds kind of cold, but we didn't need to. If there's something we needed to communicate, then it was done through words or moans or touch. There was also something that felt too strangely intimate about looking her in the eye that I admittedly avoided it on purpose. But I caught her gaze now and I figured that maybe she was realising the same things I was. That we were starting to get a little too in synch with each other, a little too familiar. She had known what I wanted without me having to tell her. Emma got me. She always got me, I don't know how. We were at the point where if even the slightest thing was off, the other would notice and I couldn't tell you whether that was a good or bad thing. She was even willing to let me have this as a way to not deal with my fucking confusing emotions. Hell, she could say all this with just one look! I was in over my head. We both were.

Fuck it. We could deal with that later.

I honestly did try and drag it out as long as possible. Emma didn't seem to mind much, seeing as I was the one ravishing her within an inch of her life. I didn't let her do anything to me at all, just made her watch and squirm as I slowly peeled off the rest of her clothes and used my very skilled hands and mouth. Do you know how hot it is to watch this woman writhing underneath you while she yells out your name? I do, and it damn near kills me sometimes. By the time I'd had enough and was sinking into her with a guttural groan of relief, I knew that this was going to be embarrassingly short. Oh, well.

When I eventually rolled off her, I was struggling to breathe through the pain in my head – blimey, I needed coffee – but I think it was totally worth it. Emma had burried her face in her pillow.

Suddenly, both of us jumped as my alarm went off.

"Oh, _shit_ –" Emma groaned. "Is it seven?"

"Yeah," I answered, reaching over and smacking the alarm clock with a fist. It thankfully shut up, but those obnoxious red lights were definitely blinking back _7:00am_.

"Bugger, I've got to go get ready for work," Emma moaned. "C'mon, Bonehead, I think you're gonna have to shove me out of bed, because I really cannot be arsed gettin' up …"

"My pleasure!" I smirked. I started shoving at her side and she suddenly shrieked and protested,

"No, no, I was only jokin'!"

"Time to get up!"

"Oh my god, you wanker, get off me! GAH!" she rolled out of bed and onto the floor with a _thump_. I laughed as her frizzy head reappeared once more, claiming,

"I am gonna KILL you one of these days."

"Ah, you wouldn't kill me," I flopped onto my stomach across my bed to throw her a grin. "You adore me."

"Oh, there are many things I adore about you," Emma grumbled, picking herself up. "Your splendid personality is not one of them."

"Keep telling yourself that, Princess!" I called after her as she gathered up her clothes.

In retaliation, she threw one of my shoes at my head.

* * *

A/N: So apparently I do this thing where I mention a throwaway character for a line or two, only to bring them back many words later. I first mentioned Sapphire as someone Fred works with back in the earliest chapters of WJML. Watch her also spiral out of control and end up becoming an important character!

So Fred looks at Emma a lot and James is the voice of reason! I seriously hope you're all still liking this, quite honestly I don't even know. Please review and let me know what you think! I literally love each and every one of you. xoxo

Until next time -

\- Moon. :D


	7. That one time I fell in love

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 7: That one time I fell in love.

A couple of days later, I found myself arguing with my sister over a packet of Puking Pastels.

"I'm not letting you come!" Roxanne whined as we stocked shelves. Don't worry, I'm not going nuts and helping her out! We rarely tolerated each other's presence when forced to be in the same room, we're not so masochistic as to actually seek each other out … unless I was like bored and teasing her sounded like fun, I mean. No, since we had apparently been 'squabbling' over who got to man the front counter, Dad had banned us both and instead, banished us to restock shelves together as punishment.

You know, because I don't already have ENOUGH insane shit going on in my life at the moment.

"But you always let me comeeeee!" I whined at Roxanne. "Come on, I helped out at the Christmas convention!"

"Yeah, and you bailed after two hours."

"Look, Emma showed up, can you fucking blame me?" I said exasperatedly.

Roxanne turned to shoot me a look across the shelves, throwing one of the pastel boxes at my head for good measure. "What are you even doing with her, Fred? Because I'm starting to think that you literally just make shit up as you go along."

"Where've you been the last 20 something years?" I snorted.

"Oh, right, sorry I accidentally thought you had your life together for a second there," Roxanne smirked. "Won't make that mistake again!"

"Roxie, I don't even pretend to know what's going on, unlike you, who has the next ten years of her life planned out. How many kids we're you going to have again? Married by 25, was it?"

"Shut up!" Roxanne complained, but she didn't counter what I'd said. Even she couldn't deny it! My sister was the kind of weird person who had a scrapbook hidden under her bed that she made when she was 12, elaborately planning out her future wedding, children, house, job … literally everything. It makes my skin scrawl just thinking about the damn thing (and I'm about 78% certain that she still has it somewhere, hidden away from any boyfriends who may accidentally stumble across it).

Roxanne freaks me out sometimes.

"I know you always pull at the Valentine's beauty expo," my sister huffed at me then, leaning against the shelf with an elbow. "and may my soul be forgiven, I actually let you! But–"

"You mention Emma, and I WILL destroy you."

"You mentioned her first!" Roxanne pointed out. "Just before, you're the one bringing her up now in casual conversation! Remember when you first started going out? You could barely even mention her name in front of me, it's sooo cute–"

" _We're not going out_ –!"

"Ya. Ok," Roxanne rolled her eyes.

I breathed in deeply through my nose. _Breeeeeathe. Don't kill! Breeeeathe …_ remember that this is Roxanne. She lives to get under my skin. This is the girl who wants to be married before she's thirty and also can't hold down a boyfriend for longer than a few weeks! Really, how do people honestly try and plan that shit out? It makes my brain hurt just thinking about it. There is absolutely no telling what life was going to throw at you next; my next case at work could end up being another Reddale and before I can think about it, I'm dead on the ground! (Well, not literally dead, I like to think I have better reflexes than THAT by now). If you had told me this time last year that I would have slept with the same woman twice and that James would be contently cohabitating with his girlfriend, I would have had you sectioned! There is no predicting this shit.

"Look," Roxanne was shaking her head. "I can't control what you think, but I _can_ control whether you come to our next beauty expo or not. I'm not going to help you get off with other women so long as Emma's still around."

"I've already told you that it's not like that," I huffed. "She gets it! She could sleep with every other bloke in London and I wouldn't care."

"Oh, like when you punched out Sebastian Cortez?" Roxanne asked innocently. "You're right, you definitely don't give a shit what she does."

"Who the fuck told you?" I groaned.

"I was THERE," Roxanne cried. "Jesus, how drunk were you?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to cut back," I admitted.

"So lessons learned from James' birthday party: Fred's liver hates him and also he yells at Quidditch players who kiss Emma."

"I … I mean, I won't deny all that," I shrugged.

Look, after dealing with the ridiculous and also 100% deserving fallout of punching Sebastian (FUCKING SEBASTIAN) I wasn't going to deny that I would yell at anyone else who even tried to kiss Emma. I might even go so far as to call it jealousy because yeah, maybe I considered Emma mine at this point. Every time I was inside her, I would claim her as my own and MAYBE I was acting like a complete tosser, but I was working on that, ok? Hence the reason I wanted to come to Roxanne's latest beauty expo on Valentine's Day!

But my sister was apparently taking my words to the extreme.

"SO YOU DO LIKE HER."

"Why do I bother," I rolled my eyes.

"FRED!" With the level of shrieking that my sister does, you'd think that we would have a swarm of birds and dogs in here by now, but (un?)fortunately our father can always cut into any conversation and be heard. He turned up at our aisle then, saving me from having to convince my sister that I'm still a rock with no feelings.

"Sooo, we're feeling the sibling love down aisle three?" Dad asked with a grin, casually leaning against the shelves.

"Dad, how did you manage to raise such a slut for a son?" Roxanne asked.

"Oi!" I said.

Dad just held up a hand. "Roxanne, for the last time, I neither want nor need to know about the amount of sexual partners my children may or may not have had."

"And you're one to talk!" I protested. "Who was your latest, Roxie? HMMM?"

Roxanne just rolled her eyes. "Fine, we're both sluts. At least I'm not afraid of falling in love."

"Dad, permission to murder?" I asked.

"Permission denied."

"Aw, _Dad_."

"Look, I didn't come over here to separate you two like hissing cats," Dad mentioned. He'd dropped the grin now, which didn't normally mean much for him, except that you need to learn how to read his sliding scale of 'concern faces'. They could range anywhere from a serious 'DEFCON ONE!' to a simple 'smh at the world'. Right now, we were somewhere in between, so I frowned in response.

"What's happened?" I asked, Roxanne glancing at me when she took in my tone. She has a harder time interpreting the scale.

"I just heard from Ginny, James is in the hospital," Dad told us. "Apparently, there was an accident during his training session today, I thought you might want to check on him."

Why was I not surprised?

"Now when you say 'accident' …?" I asked.

Dad just snorted. "Lord knows with you lot. Ginny didn't say, just that he'd been admitted and that she wouldn't be able to go visit your grandma and granddad tonight because she had to go pick him up."

"Blimey," I said. "So yeah, an accident then!"

"You want to go?"

"I'll just finish up here–"

"Nah, no you won't," Dad said. He grabbed my shoulders, simply turning me around and beginning to frog-march me back towards the fireplace out the back of the shop. "If James has gone and hurt himself again, it's a miracle you're not in there with him! So go make sure he's ok for us. Report back. Roxie and I can handle things here."

"Since when?" I scoffed.

"FUCK YOU, FRED!" Roxanne's voice yelled from a few aisles over, causing a few disapproving mumbles from several surprised customers.

Dad just sighed. "Everything will be fine here! Tell James I wish him well, and that he's not allowed to play Quidditch anymore if he's only going to keep trying to kill himself."

I rolled my eyes, but eventually agreed as I let Dad practically shove me into the fireplace. Sometimes I wondered how this shop still operated without mine and Roxanne's help. It seemed like most of the time we were the ones who handled everything while Dad just … _did_ _something_? I don't know. It must've been tough opening this place again, but I get the feeling that he keeps it open more out of pride than because he really wants to. Still, it's been so long now and it's become such a cultural icon down Diagon Alley, I think there'd be an uprising if it shut down now! I shoved it out of my mind instead of thinking about it … something I'd been doing a lot of recently, actually. I wasn't particularly worried about my idiot best friend, simply from the amount of times we'd already gone and hurt ourselves over the years and still managed to survive. I still walked fairly quickly though once I arrived at St. Mungo's Hospital within five minutes, immediately asking for the location of James Potter. I saw Rose before I saw him, my cousin still wearing her Healer robes and a clipboard in her arms as she approached.

"What's the idiot gone and done now?" I said loudly as I caught up to her outside the Artefacts Accidents emergency department.

"Oh, you know," Rose snorted. "Quidditch. He'll survive at any rate. Hang on, I'll just go tell them you're here."

I heard the 'them' as Rose disappeared back inside the emergency department doors and I put two and two together. Libby must be back from Italy! I suddenly found that my desire to get in there doubled with equal amounts of wanting to check my crazy friend was ok, along with catching up with Oh Insane One. When Rose stuck her head back out the doors and yelled, "OI! FRED!" I hurtled forward.

"MAAATE!" I cried. I noticed James being forced to lie down on one of the emergency department beds, his eyes kind of glazed over as sure enough, Libby sat next to him, holding his hand. She looked like she'd just rushed straight here from the dig site in Rome, pale faced, covered in dirt but with a relieved expression. At least James didn't look physically hurt. He might've been the one to go crazy this last month with her gone, but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't missed Libby at all.

"I complain that you never do anything cool anymore, and then you go and get yourself knocked out WITHOUT ME?" I said to James, sitting down next to him heavily with a huff.

James looked up at me, then said very, very seriously:

"Libby should kiss me."

Ok.

"Uhhh … yeah, whatever. _What the hell,_ man?" I continued, glancing at Libby's exasperated, yet fond look across the bed. "At least if you're gonna try and kill yourself, include me! I knew not having Libby around messed you up, but damn it, think of your best mate every once in a while."

But James' eyes were slowly sliding in and out of focus, his pupils totally dilated and a punch-drunk grin on his face. He giggled, before waving his arms in the air and claimed, "The elves are dancing!"

"Erm …"

"Don't mind him," Libby mentioned, hastily. "With the amount of painkillers in him, he's kind of off his rocker at the moment."

"You can say that again," I mentioned, seeing as James had grabbed one of my hands and despite my protests, started waving it around in the air with him, holding onto Libby with the other. He was still rambling about elves. "Not that I approve or anything, but d'you reckon I could get me some of whatever he's got?"

Rose, who had followed me in, suddenly slapped me upside the head with her clipboard at that. "OW! Rose, seriously!"

"He fell from about fifty feet in the air!" she cried.

"Ooooh. Ouch," I muttered.

"Yeah, I'm considering banning him from ever getting on a broomstick again," Libby said.

"Aw, but the bloke has to play!" I insisted. I tugged on James' hand and asked, "Don't you mate?"

"Plaaaay, the elves are playing! Play with me, Fred!" James rambled with a giggle.

"Well, at least he still recognises me," I shrugged. I glanced up at Libby then and gave her a grin. "So!" I said. "The great and marvellous Libby Fletcher is back, I see! When did you arrive?"

"Oh, about ten minutes ago?" she answered. "I wasn't supposed to be back until later tonight, but I motored it pretty quickly once I got the call telling me he was in hospital."

"Yeah, my dad was the one who told me," I said. Knowing our family, though, basically everyone would surely know by now. Nothing can be kept a god-damned secret when you're a Weasley. While James suddenly yanked on my arm painfully, claiming that the elves were biting him I found my mind randomly wondering if Emma knew … I shook my head hastily. Concentrate on your nutter of a best friend who was currently high as a kite because he fell off his bloody broom during training! I glanced up at Libby then, only I was kind of perplexed to see her smiling at me to the point where she looked slightly deranged. She definitely knew who I was thinking about.

LIBBY, HOW.

I asked why she was smiling like that, even though I could take a pretty good guess. Sure enough, after James asked whether his mummy dearest was coming or not ("She'll be here soon, James,") Libby was quick to tease me with,

"I'm simply contemplating how many bridesmaids Emma will want at your future wedding."

"Oh, you're bloody hilarious," I deadpanned.

"No, really!" Libby continued. "You considered a Spring ceremony?"

"Christ on a bike, what is _with_ you lot?" I scowled. I got enough of this from my sister, and now bloody Sapphire too every single time I saw her around the office! You would think that after drunkenly kissing each other and later passing out on my sofa, she would feel slightly awkward around me, but nope! It seemed that my colleague was a little off her rocker herself, since she also couldn't seem to let the idea of Emma go.

"How's it going, _Loverrrrr_?" she would smirk at me as a greeting.

"Shut up."

"Tell Emma I say hi!"

"Sapphire, I'm going to curse you. _No, really_."

She now seemed utterly convinced that I had feelings for the crazy girl with the cockney accent, which refused to dampen, no matter how many times I told Sapphire that she was nuts. In fact, every time I told her, it only seemed to fuel her resolve! I'd had enough from her, and I wasn't going to take this from Libby as well now, either.

"Look, we have sex sometimes, but it's _really_ not such a big deal!" I said. "Why can you all just leave it alone and let us enjoy it while it lasts?"

"Mmm, mainly because most of me is wondering why you punched out a famous Quidditch player," Libby noted.

"Ugh," I grumbled. "You and everyone else in the world wants to know. Seriously, I barely tapped the guy."

"Fred, you almost broke his nose in front of numerous eye-witnesses!" Libby pointed out.

"Exactly," I shrugged. "A tap."

I was literally all out of fucks to give for Sebastian FUCKING Cortez. He could rot in a hole somewhere for all I cared. Both Emma and I were yet to mention him ever again. I know that I avoided the topic for fear that I would actually snap and punch something else in response (he just had one of those faces that made me irrationally angry, ok?). And I wasn't going to forget the sex on my kitchen table any fucking time soon. It was just safer for all that we continue to pretend that he doesn't exist. But Libby's digging was making it worse by bringing it all up, and it deepened the scowl on my face.

"Aw. Poor baby," she said with a grin. "deflecting my questions because he doesn't want to admit that he's got _feeeeelings_ –"

"FEEEEEEEEEELINGS!" James warbled in back up.

"I don't even know WHY I'm here!" I huffed, totally done with this. I stormed to my feet as I added, "All you lot do is give me shit!"

"But it's so fun!" Libby grinned. James started muttering, "Fun, fun, fun …" under his breath, and that's when I decided I'd had enough here. James was still alive, that's basically all I needed to know. She seemed to have noticed that I was about to leave, because she began with, "Oh, no, c'mon Fred – don't–!" but James suddenly cut in with his two cents over her.

"Heeeey, mate!" James looked at me like he'd only just noticed I'd arrived. "Did you know that Emma LUURVES you?"

I didn't know what to say to that.

"… pardon?"

"She tooootally is, can't y'tell?" James slurred at me, that punch-drunk grin still on his face. He tried to reach out for my hand again and nearly fell out of bed. "Yooccan say the word 'casual' all you laaike buuuut there's no denyin' it! When it's love, it's love, ain't that right, baby?"

Blimey, James really was high if he was calling me 'baby'. I simply snorted at his statement, but that was when Libby added,

"The crazy person has a point. Not that I'm confirming anything, of course."

I'd been all ready to blow James off. He was totally high at the moment, he didn't know what he was talking about. But Libby was stone cold sober … and her eyes sparkled with mischief. I suddenly got the huge urge to ask what they both meant by what they'd said. But it's like a scab. C'mon, Fred, it's a RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™, just leave it alone! You don't want to know about this, you don't ask a question that you don't want to know the answer to, you don't go picking at the scab if you want it to heal … but I folded my arms defensively across my chest, before stepping forward.

"… you reckon she loves me?" I asked in the most off-hand voice I could muster.

I wasn't sure I was convincing anyone, but Libby just shook her head. "Oh, I'm not saying anything!" she said. "I mean, I can't speak for James, of course, bloke's a nutter. But me, it's a great big no comment."

"Oh, c'mon," I said. "You can't come out with something like that and just say _nothing_!"

"I didn't say anything," Libby smirked. "I confirm nothing."

"You–" My eye twitched. "God damnit!"

"Tehehehee," James giggled.

"You know what, I don't have to sit and take this abuse you throw at me, I'm out!" I meant it, I was leaving this time! I didn't care what they told me about Emma, I was storming out of here! But I'll admit that I did pause slightly before striding away, wondering if Libby or crazy-James would yell out anything else after me. Maybe that Emma truly was in love with Sebastian, or that turns out I was the target of her rogue spy operation, using sex to get information until it all went horribly wrong when she actually fell for me (ACTULLY … that'd be pretty cool).

But they didn't say anything. So I bailed before Auntie Ginny could show up and I would have to witness her wrestling James' drugged up arse back home.

* * *

I have to admit that, despite her being a cow to me, it was nice to have Libby back in the country. While I barely heard from them at all over the next month as they no doubt caught up in their little shag nest o' love, at least it meant that James wasn't being all whiney and crying all the time any more (he denies that there were ever any actual tears, but _please_ ). Luckily, work got busy over the weeks of February and it soon occupied my mind, since if I'd been left to my own devices, I know for a fact that James' rambled and ridiculous comments would've stuck in my brain.

But I wasn't thinking about her.

At all.

NOPE.

Except …

 _Emma loves you_ , my brain kept telling me as I tried and failed to get in contact with my latest criminal who'd been due in court a few days ago. _Emma loves you_ , it said as I went to his house and found that it had been trashed. _EMMA LOVES YOU_ , it wouldn't shut up as I sighed and had to think about how to start tracking him down. It was times like these when I wished that most of the time, I could just go crashing in, wands blazing, and arrest the buggers on the spot. I mean, I theoretically could, but while it might save time, the approach caused a whole load of unnecessary bad blood and paperwork. I've said before that this job is about 80% negotiation! It's definitely more convincing criminals that it's their idea to come back and face their charge, talking sense and being reasonable, than y'know, tackling targets and death-defying duels. This latest idiot had apparently stolen roughly 100,000 Galleons from his boss and the money had never been found, so if the house had been trashed, I could safely assume that someone else knew about it too.

"Yo, Landon!" I leaned against the doorway to the kid's house, eyeing the overturned sofa and with the cushions splayed about the room. "It's Agent Weasley here."

" _Hey! What's up?_ " the voice of Auror Landon filled my ear. Sometimes, I think nothing of the intercoms that we used for communication out in the field. Other times, I shook my head in disbelief when I remembered that the intercoms had been developed from the original Extendable Ear design and invented by my dad. That's right, patented and everything!

"Just a question, but uh … who else knew about the money?" I asked.

" _Wait, the Garrison case? N_ _o one_ ," Landon told me, the background noise of the Auror Office crackling through down his end. No more roaring parties, unfortunately. " _The boss didn't even realise until we arrested him. Why, what's going on?_ "

"Weeeeelp, it seems that SOMEONE evidently knows about the money, because they've kinda gone and trashed his house," I pointed out, kicking aside a broken plate that had rolled over from the kitchen. "If someone's going after him, bloke might not make it to court."

" _Shit_ ," Landon sighed. " _Listen, I've got another case open at the moment, but I'll try look into who else knew. Look into the boss, I mean, I know I'd be pissed if my money wasn't found!_ "

That was unfortunately looking like the most logical conclusion. So much for this being a normal case. I'd gotten an owl from Emma that morning, but now I wasn't entirely sure that I was going to make it back home in time to meet her. And from the sounds of it, she wasn't going to let a lot get in her way:

 _Bonehead –  
_ _I don't care that it's the 14_ _th_ _, I'm still coming.  
_ _If you don't like it, you can just suck it.  
_ _(Actually, yes, please do suck it … Merlin, don't reply to this).  
_ _Princess x_

And quite honestly, I wasn't so sure that I was mentally capable of handling her right now. I still worked my arse off trying to track down the boss, who was apparently yet another person not answering their owls or their front door. But it took HOURS, and by the time I was dragging myself home, I was soaked in dirty water, feathers, and ready to fucking kill something.

Oh good, Mrs Ramsey across the hall is taking her demon dog out.

"Good lord, what happened to you?" she asked, straightening her thick glasses while Otis the Chihuahua yapped around her ankles.

"I'd like to see how clean you stay when you get thrown into a public duck pond!" I snapped, dramatically.

"I've been telling you for years, you need a more stable job," Mrs Ramsey dug in, peering judgementally at me.

"Says you, who doesn't even HAVE a job."

"I am a retired–!"

"–retired florist and physic medium," I rattled off in unison with her. Mrs Ramsey glared as I finished with, "I FUCKING KNOW, MRS RAMSEY."

"I would suggest making a change, but even that joke shop does nothing for you," Mrs Ramsey huffed. "Your life will go nowhere if you keep working under these perilous conditions!"

"Aw. See, anyone else would think you care," I grumbled, turning my back on her and trudging for my flat.

"That girl of yours won't stick around either!"

"Thanks for the tip, Mrs Ramsey!" I yelled, throwing up my middle finger and not even bothering to turn around. I could hear her muttering to Otis but I slammed my front door shut on them. I was aching all over, dripping dirty pond water onto my carpet and my eyes of course automatically honed in on Emma's owl, still sitting ripped open on my coffee table. I glanced at my watch and realised that she could very well be here any minute. But I was hungry, cranky and wanted nothing more than an hour long shower before crawling into bed. I sighed, dragging my feet over to my desk and blindly reaching out for parchment and a quill:

 _Emma –  
_ _Look, I'm just really not in the mood tonight. Work was a bitch.  
_ _It's not because of the date. It's not because of you.  
_ _Just some other time.  
_ – _Fred._

It wouldn't be the first time one of us has said no. She would get it. The unspoken deal that we seemed to have struck up was one of us requested her coming, and no answer typically meant yes. We usually only replied if the answer was no. While I might be disappointed, you had to respect it when she said she didn't want to that night. Besides, I very rarely said no! Only occasionally has either something else been going on and I physically couldn't be here, or I was just too run down to be bothered. Ok, so maybe me saying no tonight wasn't _completely_ because of work, but nevertheless, I still straightened once I finished writing, whistling for Ravi to wake up.

Apparently I missed the knock at the door because of my owl's ridiculous hooting, since Emma gave me the fucking fright of my life when she suddenly turned up behind me just as I was trying to wrangle in Ravi flapping around my head.

"Fred–?"

"JESUS CHRIST–!" I yelled, spinning around.

" _HOOOOOT_!" Ravi apparently got confused about where he was supposed to be sending my note upon recognising Emma. His wings battered me over the head as he swooped down and dropped my note into her face.

"Oh my god, I din't mean to scare ya!" Emma was almost laughing, hastily catching at the note as Ravi went back to hooting around our heads. "You din't answer when I knocked but I could hear ya inside, so I kinda let myself in … um, you wanna explain why you smell like a sewer?" She wrinkled her nose at me.

I glanced down at her with resignation.

"Just – work, Princess," I sighed. I gestured to the note she was holding and added, "I was just about to send you that. Look, I really can't tonight."

Emma shot me a look, but opened the note I had written. Her face hardly changed as she read, simply glancing up at the end with a shrug.

"Of course it's fine. You wanna talk about it?" she asked.

"Honey, please," I thankfully managed to smirk. "I'm just … exhausted, ok? Like I would probably fall asleep on you, and I've got a reputation to maintain here, I can't let that happen!"

"There are far more embarrassing things that have happened," Emma snorted.

"We swore we'd never talk about it," I pointed shrewdly at her. We were NOT going to get into the first few awkward times where we were still getting used to each other. Boy howdy, that was best left in the past! Emma thankfully just laughed lightly.

"Ok, ok! I guess I'll just go then," she said. She paused though, glancing at me up and down and I shifted my feet slightly. "Although … an idea, which of course you can say no to, but you obviously need a shower before crashing and I haven't washed my hair for a couple of days … I could join you?"

I eyed her a moment. "In the shower?"

"If you want."

"And you'd settle for no sex?" I raised an eyebrow. "Cause let's face it, Princess, you're too short and I'm just too fucking tired for anything else."

"We get to be naked," Emma shrugged. "Better than nothin'. You wanna just shower, that's fine. I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

A shiver ran through me, and I didn't think it was because I was still standing there in my wet clothes. I contemplated a moment, before she quirked an eyebrow and I ended up saying,

"… come on then."

 _Emma loves you_.

The thought was still ringing through my head and I was still trying not to think about it. It didn't help that I was so tired that my brain was an autopilot and WOULD YOU GUESS, that statement was the only thing that it could think of? Of fucking course. I'd been utterly serious that I didn't have the energy for anything tonight; I would much rather wait until I was fully conscious, rather than settle for mediocre half-asleep sex. _Although_ , I'll admit that having a completely naked Emma in my shower was threatening to make a liar out of me. I never get the chance to just stare at her, and I think she was taking the opportunity to do the same as we took turns standing under the pouring water. On our flat feet, the top of her head barely reached my shoulder and her frizzy hair dripping down her back just made her look even shorter than normal. Sometimes I like looking at the contrast between my darker skin and her lighter tone. I watched the curve of her neck as she tipped her head back and I ran my eyes down the rest of her body.

Keep it together, mate.

"So don't tell me," Emma mentioned at one point, having borrowed my shampoo and was currently rubbing suds through her thick hair as I stood under the water. "you've never celebrated Valentine's Day in your life?"

"I'll have you know that I go out every Valentine's Day," I countered at once. "Honestly, you always assume – damn it – can you hand me the shower gel?"

Emma scoffed, lightly whacking me round the head. "Get it yourself!"

"It's not like there's a lot of room in here!"

"Just turn around."

"With you standing there, is that wise?" Emma challenged me with an eyebrow and I just muttered, "Hang on," taking hold of her upper arms to manoeuvre ourselves around. It was difficult not to touch her any more than was necessary. I didn't want to start something I couldn't finish, but she's too fucking sexy when she looks at me like that! She kept catching me staring, but to her credit she said nothing as I could finally reach the shower gel and she raised her arms to start rinsing out her hair.

"So Valentine's Day …?" she prompted.

"Hmmm?"

"C'mon!" she said, tipping her head back again under the water. Fucking Jesus. "It's a romantic holiday, are ya seriously tellin' me that you actually do the cutesy hearts and flowers thing?"

"As if," I snorted. "but a lot of other people do, and that's what I'm there for. Valentine's Day is prime time."

"Are girls really that desperate?"

"You're the girl here," I just shrugged. "You tell me."

"I like to think I have at least a little faith in my gender," Emma said. "but admittedly, I'm into it."

"I'm just into the sex. People get surprisingly horny around this time of year," I mentioned.

"Guess this is a first, then."

"You're not exactly the first girl I've ever showered with, Princess."

"You know what I mean," she rolled her eyes.

I didn't answer as we swapped again. She still had some suds in her hair, but she stepped in close and moved around me, her body lightly grazing mine as she let me wash off my soapy shower gel. She smelled like my shampoo and I had to physically grit my teeth in order to step back again. "If you saw me on Valentine's Day out in town," I ended up saying to try and focus my delusional and sleep-deprived mind. "Would you be desperate enough to go for me?"

"Apparently I WAS desperate enough to go for you, remember?" Emma put in.

"Yeah, but that was Halloween," I said. "When you can hide behind costumes and not think about what you're doing and who you're doing it with. Valentine's Day you're looking for something different, it's about the connection. Would you still go for me?"

"Eh," Emma shrugged.

" _Eh_?"

"Well, I mean, you're decent looking," Emma said. "but pretending that I didn't know your reputation before meeting ya, I'd say that while you're decent looking, you still kind of have that vibe about you."

"What vibe?"

"The 'I'm a little shit who'll bed you and never owl you again' vibe," Emma smirked as I swiped away the soap off my body.

"Well, I didn't do that to you, did I?"

"You're still a little shit," she said.

"True, that IS how I do," I didn't deny. I spent several moments just standing under the water then, rinsing off the last of the soap. However, I felt my eyes slowly closing and the next thing I knew, I was swaying and nearly crashing into the side of the shower. "WHOA–"

"I think you're falling asleep standing up," Emma was trying not to laugh.

"I'm too tired to be following this conversation," I admitted.

"Long story short, Valentine's Day is ideal for getting off with sad, lonely people and that if we met on this day instead of Halloween, we'd probably still end up in bed together."

"Well, I couldn't miss your hair out in a club or whatever, could I?"

"You know you love my hair."

"Seriously, have you ever managed to tame it?"

"I am very sure that it literally has a mind of its own," Emma had stepped in and grabbed my arm to stop me from killing myself in here and I was only just realising faintly that she was pressed up close against me, both of us under the scalding water. Of course I loved her hair. She's fucking beautiful. Blimey, I'm tired – what's my name again?

"You're beautiful."

Fred, _seriously_.

"Thank you, I think," Emma giggled nervously. "C'mon, Bonehead – let's get you outta here before you drown in your sleep, or say something REALLY stupid."

* * *

I woke up in the morning with my muscles screaming and bruises covering my ribs. Bloody Jesus. I knew that I was going to feel being tackled into Hyde Park duck pond by a scrawny kid whose only claim to fame was stealing 100,000 Galleons, but I hadn't counted on this agony! I literally ached all over. The only plus side I could seem to find was that I had apparently slept like the dead and felt like I must have had at least a good ten hours. I may hate my life sometimes, but always be thankful for a soft bed. I stretched and rolled my head over to see what the time was, but I found that something was in the way.

 _Emma's shoulder_.

The fuck?

I glanced down and my heart leapt erratically into my throat when I realised that she was here. Sleeping. In my bed. EMMA. _What the bloody hell happened last night?_ I had been so tired I was barely thinking straight! I think I was half asleep by the time we were getting out of the shower and I couldn't for the life of me fathom why I would be waking up with her in my bed. She was still fast asleep with her back pressed up against my chest and from what I could feel, she was in a t-shirt and not much else. I'd woken up with an arm casually flung over her waist, our legs tangled together.

Were we … _cuddling_?

In a move that was so fast and sharp I feared it may wake her, I suddenly rolled away onto my back. Shit. Double shit. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! I'd been exhausted last night, no kidding. I remembered falling asleep almost as soon as I hit my pillow, maybe entertaining a thought that Emma looked like she was tired too, but WHAT THE FUCK WAS HAPPENING? She wouldn't have just invited herself into my bed! I didn't know her well, but I knew her where it counted and I was certain that she would never do that. The only reason she would be here next to me was if I'd wanted her to be. And quite honestly, in those few moments after waking up and before realising what a mess I was in, I could see maybe why I might have wanted it: damnit if it wasn't the most comfortable I'd ever been in my fucking life.

But we were cuddling. LITERALLY CUDDLING. This wasn't ok. This was far from ok! There was a reason my chest was now aching as well with the frantic beat of my heart. There was a reason I slept with this girl more than once. I've known it I think ever since that first time I gave up control and let her do whatever she wanted. Emma was simultaneously the most irritating being on the planet, and my absolute favourite person. It was the way she knew my body as well as her own and knew exactly what it was that I liked. It was the way that she scoffed indignantly at my worst moments. It was the way she didn't take any shit from me at all, as much as I may have hated her for it.

 _Emma loves you_.

And fuck me, but I think I loved her too.

WEEEEELP, SHE'S GOTTA GO.

"Emma," I said, shoving her next to me. "Wake up."

"Ugh, leave me alone …" Emma voice warbled, still half-asleep.

Fucking Jesus, this was going to be a nightmare. I leaned over her and shoved her shoulder roughly. "EMMA!"

"God, _what_?" Emma complained, rolling over and blinking up at me. I could see her face working in the dim morning light filtering through the curtains for a moment. Then, her eyes widened.

"Oh, shit," she said. "Did I stay here all night?"

"Apparently," I said, voice strained. "Emma, I was so tired, I don't – why are you still here?"

"You asked me to stay," Emma said, rubbing her eyes. "I guess you _were_ practically comatose … I was gonna go home, but you said I should just sleep here."

Her voice was oh-so-casual, but slightly forced, like she knew how uncomfortable this was and was doing her best to not have to acknowledge it. A look passed between us, before I said simply,

"You need to leave."

"Yeah, yeah," Emma grumbled, rolling her eyes. "I'm getting up, Dickhead …"

She heaved herself upright and I realised that her hair was flat on one side, having dried in an awkward shape after showering last night. I could only watch in desperation as she rolled out of bed with a flop onto the floor, moaning out of sight and I almost wanted to laugh. She was fucking adorable … NOPE. My mind started screaming as she started gathering up her clothes. I couldn't do this anymore. We had passed the point of 'gone too far' a long time ago and I thought frantically for any way to say this that wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, but nothing came to mind. My best hope was just to shut it out of my head and don't treat it as such. _It's literally no big deal, Fred. You've both known that this was casual the entire time. It had to end at some point. Just do it!_

JUST DO IT.

"Emma, we should stop seeing each other."

Her head popped up from the end of my bed, her face quizzical. She'd managed to claim the rest of her clothes, holding only her socks in her hands. I think she was about to say something along the lines of, ' _wait, what?'_ but then caught the look on my face. Instead, she sighed and used my bed to haul herself up, perching on the edge. "Can I at least put my socks on before we have this conversation?" she asked.

I just shrugged helplessly, watching her perform this totally innocent act like it wasn't currently ripping my chest into shreads. It wasn't that I'd never seen her get dressed before, but this was the first time we'd spent the night together with absolutely no sex involved. Suddenly the act of simply pulling on socks was … incredibly intimate. And it was eating away at me the more seconds ticked by. She was also remaining weirdly calm about it. Maybe there was a hint of bitterness underneath that outward nonchalance, but that might've just been my wishful thinking. When she was fully dressed, she turned around to face me, still looking as cool as ever.

"So what," she said, a touch of something in her voice. "You don't think we should sleep together anymore?"

"I – Emma," I avoided her gaze and instead, started searching for a shirt. I needed more clothes here, otherwise I feared I may get a punch to the nuts. "Look, it's been cool and all … but it had to end sometime, right?"

"Right! Ok," She tried to keep that dettached face on as she stood up and admittedly, she did pretty well. I might not have even noticed the hurt in her eyes. She took a loose hairtie from around her wrist and began tieing up her brown curls as she said, "I s'pose it's been a nice run. 'course it had to end at some point. Have a nice life, see you round, I guess."

And with a snap of a hairtie, she suddenly made to leave.

"Whoa hey, Emma–!" I yelled after her, leaping out of bed. I contemplated whether I could face this confrontation in my underwear and decided against it. I hastily yanked the first pair of jeans I could grab from my drawers on my way out. I was hopping on one foot to get them on as I crashed around the corner into the hallway and saw her nearly at the door.

"WAIT!"

"Why?" Emma spun around, having already put on her shoes and coat. She sent me that withering look of hers that I've gotten rather used to: the _don't give me that shit, Bonehead_ , look. I took the opportunity to finish jumping into my jeans, before she burst out,

"Fred, if you want me to leave, I'm leaving! But don't fuck around with me. If you're too afraid to tell me that you want me to stay, then admit it now so I know that I shouldn't waste my time."

Was I too afraid to tell her I wanted her to stay? The honest answer was probably yes, but I wasn't dealing with this shit right now. I scowled at her and said, "I just wanted to make sure that you understood! You ran out of there before I could explain–"

"You don't have to explain anything!" Emma insisted, the shaking in her voice barely disguised. "You don't want to have sex with me anymore!"

"Hey!" I suddenly yelled. "It's not that!"

"Oh, so you DO want to have sex with me?" Emma snapped. "For god's sake, this is what I mean, make up your fucking mind–!"

"Listen, _Princess_ , I'll always wanna have sex with you!" I said, exasperatedly. "C'mon, that's a given. I'm attractive, you're attractive, and we both know that it's bloody amazing, but we _can't_ keep doing this! Sooner or later, one of us is going to get hurt and I don't want it to be me!"

Emma folded her arms across her chest. She stood her ground down the hallway and didn't move at all, even as I did towards her.

"Fred, you like me. Don't you?" she asked.

I stopped dead.

HOW THE HELL COULD SHE KNOW?!

She must've seen my face, because her own softened slightly. "You're a complete tosser sometimes, but it's not too hard to figure out. You're afraid that if we keep doing this, you'll eventually fall for me, if you haven't already. Am I right?"

My mouth was completely dry. I managed to croak out,

"Emma, you need to leave."

"Aha!" she said, triumphantly. "I AM right!"

"Seriously, get out of my flat!"

"For Merlin's sake, Fred, it's ok," Emma said, earnestly. My heart was bloody pounding, holy shit. "Jesus, ya think I don't have feelings for you as well? Hell, I'm terrified! I don't know what the fuck this is, I dunno know where it's going, I've never done somethin' like this before! We never stop and think about it, we never talk about it, it just happens. I promise I tried bloody hard not to, but I fell for you anyway! And you don't need to freak out about it. Hell, nothing even needs to change!" Emma's face was blazing, red tinting her cheeks and I don't think I've ever been looked at like this before, but it's fucking happening. Oh my god, what do I do?! I think she went to kiss me or something, but I panicked and jerked back away from her. She stepped away slightly, hurt flashing in her eyes.

"I'm an idiot," she muttered.

"Huh?" was all I could manage.

"I'm sorry, I'm just an idiot," Emma shook her head. "I can't believe myself, I actually thought I could convince the High and Almighty Fred Weasley that it was ok to fall in love with me, but I shouldn't waste my fucking breath. I'm sorry, I'll just leave now like you want me to–"

"Emma!"

She paused, hand on the door knob. She didn't turn and face me, she simply spoke low and quietly to the wood in front of her.

"Tell me," she said. "Go on, I dare you. Tell me you want me to stay …"

I couldn't. I couldn't move, I could barely breathe with terror in my throat. Everything she was saying was all I wanted to hear, and also my worst nightmare, all at the same time. This was why I avoided relationships! Because they mess with your head, because what if they fell apart, because I didn't know how they worked and shit, what if I got it wrong? What if I fucked up, what if Emma hated me forever now and damn it, this hurt! THIS IS WHY I DON'T DO IT!

I almost said something, but I'd waited too long.

"Fine. See you, Fred," Emma snapped.

She slammed the door after her, leaving behind a raging silence.

* * *

A/N: We are literally only 7 chapters in and Fred's already in love. FRED. OF ALL FUCKING PEOPLE! For someone who's usually all about the slow burn, my characters seem to be falling in love really quickly lately. I just wanna smash their heads together and yell, 'DUDE, YOU ARSEHOLES ARE MEANT TO BE'

Btw, I think I fucked up my own timeline. Libby is 'sick' for the whole of Feb, nearly Mar, before she finds out actually she's pregnant, and here I've got this taking place on Valentine's Day. But it was too confusing to try and change so uh, don't think about it please? Haha

Also THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS!  
I literally love all of you.  
Y'all are the reason I'm still posting this trash story.  
Please keep yelling at me how much you wanna smash Fremma's heads together. x

Until next time -

\- Moon. :D


	8. That one time I threw Roxie out a window

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 8: That one time I threw Roxie out a window.

I didn't know what the hell to do with myself.

I didn't want to admit how terrible I'd felt ever since Emma had slammed my front door behind her. A silent part of me had wondered if I would ever see her again. _Duh, Fred_ , the scolding voice in my head had snapped at that. _'Course you'll see her again, she's mates with Libby and James! That's why sleeping with her was a RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™, remember?_ Oh, yeah, that's right. Still, I think the best course of action here was obviously avoid her within an inch of my life, and if I did accidentally run into her, KILL MYSELF.

Nothing is too dramatic when your name is Weasley.

I eventually decided on TV wasteland, watching basically anything to take my mind off it with my good ol' best friend, fried chicken! See, chicken is never complicated. Chicken is always there for you. If you accidentally snuggle with chicken, it's not going to try and convince you to fall in love with it. I'll admit that I wasn't normally a big TV watcher, mainly because the thing gave me headaches whenever I tried, but it did tell some entertaining stories sometimes and was good for distracting the mind. I collapsed onto the sofa, balancing my plate of chicken on my chest. Emma would fucking laugh if she could see me now. _Damn it, that's not getting her out of your head, is it?_

The banging on my door started roughly an hour later.

"FRED!" James' voice roared as he pounded on the wood. "FRED, you bastard, I know you're in there! OPEN THE DOOR!"

I considered getting up, but I really didn't want to have to face the music here. Of course James knew already. Emma probably went and told Libby, who then told James, because they're adorable little fucks who tell each other everything.

More banging on the door. Bloody hell, James.

Eventually, he just forced his own way in, which wasn't surprising at all. He stormed into my lounge, still yelling, "FREEEEED!" with his wand out. His dark hair was half standing on end, like he'd slept roughly. He looked tired, furious and amused all at the same time as he stopped dead once he reached my lounge.

"Oh, hey!" I waved happily from the sofa. "How's it?"

He sent me the most withering look I think I've ever received, and I'm including Rose's looks as well, here! He folded his arms across his chest and answered,

"Oh, you know. Want to tell me why I've got a crying Emma in my flat?"

I suddenly sat up, the plate of half-eaten chicken and left over bones tumbling to the floor.

"She's crying?" I asked.

James raised an eyebrow at my question, but didn't give anything else away. I think he was waiting for me to react somehow, to say something, but my mind was in lockdown, as it had been basically ever since I'd told Emma that we had to stop seeing each other. I'd taken whatever ridiculous feelings I may or may not have felt and hidden them in the far back of my brain, because I couldn't have them running loose while I confronted her. I had barely confronted them myself! But Emma was crying. She'd run to her best friend and was crying, because of me. I'd made her cry! I don't think I've made a girl cry since I was twelve years old!

It wasn't until James had sighed and moved to sit down next to me when I finally decided to peer slightly at those feelings I'd locked away. He levitated the fallen plate of chicken up onto the coffee table as he settled in for the long haul on the other end of the sofa. Emma was crying, and while I was being kind of honest here, I felt a little like crying myself, which was NUTS. I know I thought I was in love with her earlier, but that couldn't be true, right? I barely knew Emma. I could admit that yeah, I really liked her. She challenged me like I don't think any girl has ever really done before. But we never talked, we never had in-depth conversations about our likes and dislikes and we certainly didn't hang out when there wasn't sex involved.

Except for last night.

I sighed. Last night had basically fucked everything up. It had all been going fine until then and now suddenly, it was impossible to ignore the fact that now I apparently had feelings! Many feelings, actually, because I cared a fucking LOT about that girl, whether I wanted to or not! I cared about how she felt, I cared that she was comfortable with me and whatever we did together, I cared very much that BLOODY Sebastian Cortez kissed her. I cared that she was apparently crying right now, upset because of me.

I looked up, but couldn't meet James' eye. Instead, I stared at the TV without really seeing it.

"James," I eventually managed to say. "How … how do you know when you're in love?"

Props to my best mate, he didn't comment at all on that. Instead, he shrugged.

"Ohhhhh … they throw up on you at two in the morning and you don't care."

"Yeah, I wasn't asking how d'you know when you're in love with Libby Fletcher, I was asking in a more general sense," I pointed out.

"Look, mate," James snorted then in amusement. I kept looking at that screen. "If you're having to ask … you're in love."

Fuck.

"Yeah," I said to James. "That's what I thought."

What the hell was happening? WHAT THE HELL DO I DO? You can get over this, right? Yeah, people fall OUT of love all the time! That's all I had to do, I'd just get over it. There should definitely be some sort of 12-Step programme for this kind of thing. Like 'How to Fall Out of Love with Emma Whatever-her-fucking-last-name-is in Twelve Easy Steps' … I need to write that shit, I'd make a fucking fortune.

Damn it, Emma, how did this happen? I don't fall in love, I've never been in love, I never ever planned on it my entire life! I couldn't do it, the dedication and commitment with one person forever, I'M FRED FUCKING WEASLEY, I DON'T DO LOVE! I have literally slept with dozens of women and managed to avoid feelings with every single one, but this ONE GIRL managed to make me fall in love with her! _You can't blame Emma,_ that annoying voice suddenly chimed in. _It was your choice to sleep with her again. And again and again … what did you expect would happen?_ Jesus Christ, it was my fault I loved her. My fault I was having these thoughts ravage through my head.

FUCK.

"… sooooo," James practically sang out after having sat there for several moments and apparently getting impatient. "Is that it? Because I owe Rosie like, 20 Galleons now, which I should really go and try and get her to forget about, seeing as I'd better start saving my money for nappies and stuff, really–"

"MATE!" I cried.

"What? Just sayin'!"

"You BET on me?" I complained.

"Of course!" James scoffed. "Although I'm quite disappointed that I lost! You just HAD to go and fall for her, didn't you?"

"What – I never _said_ I–" I started building up a defence despite myself, but that was when one tiny comment of James' suddenly stuck out from that rambling earlier. _Nappies and stuff_. What the fuck? " _Wait_ –" I snapped my head around to finally meet my best friend's gaze, only to see him staring at me in quizzical confusion.

" _Nappies_?" I reiterated for him.

His face transformed within three seconds to one of _oh, crap_.

"Um, didn't I mention that?" James asked, weakly. "Libby's having a baby!"

What.

No, seriously – _what._

"No," I ground out in answer. "No, you did NOT mention that! SINCE WHEN?"

"Since my birthday, apparently, but we only found out a couple of weeks ago," James admitted.

WHAT.

THE FUCK.

"HOLY SHIT, MATE!" I yelled, leaping to my feet. "YOU'RE HAVING A BABY? WHY WAS I NOT TOLD THIS?!"

"Well, to be fair, we were a bit more worried about telling our parents," James quickly moved to join me in standing. "I would have told you … erm, eventually?"

" _James_ ," I gaped.

My mind could only comprehend so much, and after dealing with Emma and emotions and shit, this seemed to be one insane concept too far. My best friend was standing there sheepishly in front of me, looking half terrified as he waited for me to say something. _Libby's having a baby_. This idiot of mine was going to have a CHILD? I couldn't even picture it. WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THIS WORLD? How could he have not TOLD me this?!

Oh my god, I'm going to be a fucking uncle or something.

I leapt forward and threw my arms around him. James laughed as he hugged me back tightly.

"So does this mean you don't think I've ruined my life?" James asked from over my shoulder.

"Oh, I think you're nuts!" I said. "Absolutely fuckin' crazy! I mean, it was an accident, right? I can't imagine you doing this on purpose, I mean, you've been together, what? Two seconds?" I snorted at my hilarious joke, pulling back so that I could see James' grateful face. "But I know you, mate, and you're not crying over it, so that means you must be throwing yourself one hundred per cent into it. If I don't support you, I'll lose you as a friend again, and there's no way in hell I'm doing that."

I remembered those months of us not talking all too well, and it was all because I was an idiot who refused to grow up. Admittedly, I think I've still got some more growing up shit to do, but I could handle that later. You know, I used to actually care about James' life and what he did with it – meaning that I thought I could control it just like I could control my feelings – but James had soon called me out. No, it was HIS life. No, I couldn't make him do anything that I wanted. I was an idiot who refused to accept Libby in his life, and I nearly lost him as a mate because of it. I certainly wasn't doing that again.

James was staring at me in barely concealed shock.

"Fred … that was actually sentimental," he said.

I shrugged. "I've learnt a lot the last few months."

"No kidding …" he sat back down then, tugging on my wrist and making me sit down as well. I noticed a few pieces of chicken that I still had left and since he was going to be oh, I don't know, A FATHER SOON, I decided to be a nice friend and offer him one. James grinned, accepting it.

"I'm sorry you just randomly found out like that," he told me. "We've been working on telling people slowly and you were next, I promise."

"Shit – fuck – James, I don't even care," I answered. "I STILL CAN'T EVEN BELIEVE THIS."

"But don't you think I've forgotten why I came round in the first place," James added, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Or why we're sitting here, eating break-up chicken."

"For god's sake," I grumbled. "we didn't break up, we weren't together."

"You're still eating chicken in your underwear," James noted.

"Your point?"

"You fell for Emma, didn't you?" James asked, chewing his chicken happily. Bastard. "Fell hard, I'm guessing. Tried not to, but let's face it, my Em's a catch! So you dumped her, and she got pissed."

How the hell does James know this? Is it because he went through all that shit with Libby? I'd been forced to watch from the side-lines every step of the way until they got together, and it had involved a lot of heart-stomping, one-sided flirting and the occasional bout of stalking! James might be able to talk about this, but I certainly couldn't! Or … maybe I just wouldn't.

And ok, maybe I finally should.

"It wasn't pretty," I eventually decided on, chucking my latest chicken bone onto the plate.

"I'll bet," James said. "so go on, tell me everything. What exactly happened?"

Well, I at least tried to explain, but it's difficult when you barely know what's happening yourself. And I was there! I tried to switch the conversation to James' up-and-coming baby (BABY) at one point, but he was quick to divert it back to me, the wanker. I could stand it up until James started trying to convince me that I was a nutter for pushing Emma away, but then I simply had to cut in.

"No, nope, you're not seriously comparing this to _food_ are you?" I said, exasperatedly.

"You'll never know unless you try it!" James insisted. "Bear with me and my weird analogies, ok? You're saying you've learnt a lot, recently. Well, learn a little more! You're a Gryffindor, aren't you?"

I refused to answer that, because I know I certainly didn't feel like a Gryffindor lately. In fact, I'd basically done the opposite of being a Gryffindor, right? I didn't face this despite the fear I felt, I didn't stand up strong or whatever the crap. Hell, I bloody cut and run like a dog with its tail between its legs! James, naturally, figured it out just from that one look.

"You're scared!" he said, triumphantly.

"What?"

"That's it!" he cried. "You genuinely like a girl for the first time and you're TERRIFIED!"

"Am not!"

"Don't even bother argue, I'M TOTALLY RIGHT!" James yelled, punching the air. "Yes! I am the KING!"

"This coming from the bloke who spent four years pretending that he wasn't in love with Libby?" I countered.

"And look how THAT turned out!"

"Whatever, fine, bad example," I sighed. I could explain this, right? "Look, James – yeah … ok, I might be a _little_ scared. A lot scared. Because I saw what happened to you, you were a mess! Libby broke your heart at one point, and I refuse to let that happen to me. This has never been me anyway, never been what I do, and it's FREAKING ME OUT, BECAUSE SHIT, I MISS HER!"

Good lord, I hadn't meant for that to come out! But I couldn't deny it, not really. She'd barely been gone two hours, and I was already a hot mess. James, the bastard, was just grinning at me weirdly, like he was about to start crying any second or something. I'd blame pregnancy hormones, if that was a thing with fathers-to-be.

"What?" I asked, warily.

James sniffed. "My baby grew up."

"Oh, sod off," I moved to thump him hard on the arm. James cringed away, but didn't stop his maniacal grin. "Look, I get feelings sometimes, you know me, you know I'm not a fucking rock. I just accidentally let it get too far this time, that's all! Give me a few days, I'll be totally fine."

"So you're admitting to the fact that you're not 'fine' now?" James asked.

"WHATEVER, I'm not fine now!" I huffed. " _Jesus_ , James, but I will be ok? Just you wait, the next time I have a day off I'll be out there shagging someone else, and I won't care at all!"

"Mmm, see you say that …" James grinned.

"You can't tell me what I will or won't feel!"

"No, true," James nodded. "but you're forgetting that I tried that tactic. About three years ago, when I went and slept with just about every woman I could find to try and forget about Libby. I had some interesting experiences and even a philosophical discussion or two at one point, but I still ended up here."

"Yes, here, with a pregnant girlfriend," I pointed out.

"Yeeeeah …" James sighed. "Quite honestly, I don't really know how that happened. Well, I do, but you know what I mean."

"I still seriously can't believe you guys are gonna have a baby," I almost laughed then. Finally, get the heat off me! "You're like, keeping it and shit, right?"

"Yeah, we're keeping it," James answered, a slight smile on his face. "Don't really know what the hell I'm going to do when it comes, but it's happening, that's all I can really confirm at the moment. And no, we're not getting married!" he added as a forceful afterthought.

"Whoa, I'm not making you," I promised, holding up my hands in defence. "Honestly, I think a baby's bad enough, why the hell would I make you get married as well?"

"Dad seems to think we should," James muttered, bitterly.

"Oh," I paused for a moment. I loved Uncle Harry, that guy was the total shizz, seriously. He let me stay at his house for days at a time during summers as a kid until eventually, Mum would ask him if her son was coming back home anytime soon. Uncle Harry would help James and I build forts out of sheets and blankets in the lounge, but only if we promised to let in Al and Lily as well (we always said yes, but our cousins/siblings will swear to you that they were never graced with the inside of our beloved forts!). Uncle Harry was brilliant, but …

"Yeah, I just told him," James muttered to me. "Earlier today. Mum already knew, she was the first person I told and she's so far been fine with it, but Dad went off his nut. He just doesn't get that not every couple needs to be married to successfully raise a child!"

"Ah, screw it, James," I just shrugged. "He's Uncle Harry, he'll come round soon enough."

"But it's my dad," James said, glancing up. Whoa boy, I didn't realise how upset he seemed, until I saw the look in his eyes. "I said that we weren't ready for marriage – I don't know if we'll ever even get married! – and he legit told me that if we're not ready to get down the aisle now, then how are we supposed to be ready to have a baby? If my dad doesn't even believe I can do it, then how the HELL am I supposed to?"

"Wha – hey – I mean, you don't know shit at the moment, James," I hastily pointed out. "And clearly neither does Uncle Harry. Fuck, I don't know, he's probably just worried about you."

"I'm worried about me," James admitted.

"Look, this concept is starting to get a little far beyond me," I said exasperatedly. "but even I can tell you that there's no point worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet. How about you wait until the freakin' baby is here, THEN you can worry?"

Thankfully, James just snorted at that. "That's why I like you, Fred," he said. "you put things in perspective."

"I try," I shrugged.

"You're still in love with Emma, though," he added.

"Aw, mate, seriously," I complained. "I thought I'd forgotten about that!"

James laughed, but his look was sobering. "I mean it, Fred. I'm sorry, I won't pretend to know what you're feeling, but whatever it is, know that I've been there. It'll be ok. Just promise me that you won't go and do something stupid."

"What qualifies as 'stupid'?"

"Let me put it this way," James said. "If you have to stop and ask yourself that question before you do it, then yeah, it's stupid."

"… I'll bear it in mind."

* * *

Remember that theory of mine, where I just forget about it for a couple of days, and then I'd be totally fine? Yeah, uh, that totally worked. Yep! Completely. James had eventually left that morning with another hug that I totally didn't need, but accepted because fuck, the bloke was having a baby! No matter whatever the hell I was dealing with, that just took the bloody cake! And thankfully, work got busy with the paperwork season (or what us agents liked to call the upcoming 'Three Months of Hell') so I spent far more time staring at boring case files up for review than thinking about Emma. Not that I thought about her. At all.

Noooo, nope, never crossed my mind.

Ok, look, I _couldn't_ think about her. Because if I did, then everything that I'd been carefully bottling inside would come spilling out and trust me, you guys don't wanna be here if THAT shit hit the fan. I couldn't even let myself be sad, because that would be admitting that I was affected by this. I needed to just forget about the fact that it had been days since I'd seen her. Forget when I had realised that I'd been seeing her almost every single day at one point. I needed to forget what she looked like in the shower, or her face when she came, or how she would kick me if I said something she didn't like. I JUST NEEDED TO FORGET ABOUT IT, OK?

Turns out, my sister of all people could help with that.

I woke to the sound of a ringing phone … which was weird, because nobody ever calls me on the phone unless it's an emergency and quite honestly, I wasn't even sure if I knew where my mobile phone was. My head jerked up painfully off my desk from where I had apparently fallen asleep again in the middle of my never-ending pile of reports. The annoying ringtone had stopped by the time I was semi-conscious and I was contemplating just giving up and going to bed, when it started up again. _Goddamn it._ I figured that if someone was desperate enough to call me twice, I'd unfortunately better get my arse up and answer it. I stumbled into the kitchen, following my ears, and eventually producing it from the cutlery drawer (don't ask me how it ended up there, I can barely keep track of my wand).

"… the fuck?" I said once I remembered how to actually swipe and answer the damn thing.

" _Fred?_ " a young woman's voice asked.

For a second, I blinked as I stood there in the middle of my dark kitchen. My brain was still waking up and as such, it took me several seconds to realise that it was my sister calling me. I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked that it was currently 1:18am.

"Roxie?" I said, rubbing my eyes. "No offence, but fuck off. It's too early for this."

" _Fred_!" Roxanne hissed down the phone. " _Don't you dare hang up on me! I need your help!_ "

"Oh, did you run out of dry shampoo again?"

" _Would I be calling you if this wasn't an emergency?!_ " she was practically spitting.

"Jesus Christ, ok!" I rolled my eyes. For all my ribbing, it was admittedly strange to ever get a call. While most witches and wizards of my generation in general owned cell phones, they were rarely used. A lot of the time they malfunctioned if they interfered with magic (maybe that was why I'd hidden mine in the cutlery drawer?) and it was quite something to have to explain to the phone technician why Fruit Ninja kept glitching whenever you held it but worked totally fine once you handed it over. Owls tended to be safer, unless an emergency of course granted immediate contact, in which case the phones would get cracked out and often you could hear in the background of said conversations, "S _top levitating crisps into your mouth, you lazy dick, I'm making a very important call and the bloody thing is STILL bringing up random apps – NO, I DON'T WANT TO UPLOAD THIS TO FACEBOOK_ _– mate, do you remember what Facebook was again_ _?_ "

Thankfully, there didn't seem to be anything bothering the connection now, though my sister's voice did sound low and strangely echo-y. "Look, what's going on? Why are you whispering?" I asked, exasperatedly.

" _Look, I kiiiiinda need you to come and rescue me_ ," Roxanne breathed. " _I had the 'I'm a witch' conversation with my now-ex, only he didn't take too well to it. Get this, he legit locked me in his bathroom and is apparently calling the police on me!_ "

"Oh, god."

" _It gets better_ ," Roxanne continued. " _He maaay or may not still have my purse with him out there, and it's kinda got my wand in it. I managed to save my phone by shoving it down my top, but if he finds my wand, he's going to think I'm part of some cult, and I'll be arrested for sure, AND THEN–_ "

"Roxie!" I cried. "Bloody hell, when did you dump this guy?"

" _About five seconds after he locked me in the bathroom_?"

"I really wish I didn't have to ask this question, but how long were you together?"

" _Uh, a week and three days?_ "

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I cried. That's it, I'm completely fucking done. "Even _I_ know that you don't have the 'I'm a witch' conversation unless it's been several months AT LEAST! No wonder he wants you sectioned! What the fuck were you thinking?"

" _Do you know how exhausting it is to shave your legs without magic?_ " Roxanne asked, sounding irrationally reasonable. " _We spend like, every moment together, so I couldn't just get my wand out and razors suck and are sooo bad for your skin, so I said fuck it and told him I could do magic, but he suddenly went all wiggy on me_ –!"

"ROXANNE … fuck's sake, I don't even know how to respond to that …" I shook my head.

MY SISTER, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN.

" _Look, are you gonna come rescue me or not?_ "

For a second, I entertained the idea of letting my sister get arrested by the Muggle authorities and watch her try and explain this one to Dad. But I accidentally caught sight of my desk where I'd been working up until this ludicrous phone call and was reminded of the case I was currently working. I was in the middle of trying to track down some douchebag who had smacked around his partner. As much as it pained me to think it, that could've been my sister. A lot worse could have happened than her simply getting locked in a bathroom without her wand. I was going to give her shit for this later, no kidding, but I think I kind of have to go and rescue her now, don't I?

Also, this was helping in that I hadn't managed to think of Emma even once since I'd woken up, right?

I sighed.

"Where are you?"

* * *

Luckily she was trapped on the ground floor.

"Fred!" Her brown head popped up from behind the wavy glass just as I was stalking around outside the back gardens of the long row of attached houses, busy counting windows. I snorted and ran over with my wand already in my hand, glancing up at the other windows and praying to Merlin that no one else saw me and that I didn't accidentally trip over a rubbish bin or a stray cat. She could open the window about two inches, enough to call out to me, but even her tiny arse couldn't squeeze through that.

"Mighty pickle you've got yourself in, huh?" I called out.

"Will I ever hear the end of this?"

"NEVER," I said with glee. A tap of the window vanished the glass and my sister sighed with relief as she came into focus. She was dressed in one of her 'glam' outfits, as she liked to call the sparkles and heels combination, her usually curly black hair currently straightened and hanging down her back. Her shoes were in her hands and instead of climbing out like I expected, she reached through and grabbed a handful of my shirt.

"Come on!" she said.

"Hey–! I'm s'posed to be rescuing you, remember?" I tried to wrench back, but she was literally clawing me through the window!

"We have to get my wand back," Roxane insisted. "Also, my favourite lipstick is in that purse!"

" _Roxie_ – Christ, I can't believe you called me of all people," I huffed.

"Hurry up and be quiet," Roxanne insisted as I slapped away her hands tugging at me and finished clambering inside the shabby bathroom myself. I climbed out of the bathtub as she continued, "Yeah, you were kinda my last resort as well, but none of my mates would answer me! _Bitches_ ," she added.

I glanced at her as she brushed off that last comment of hers, instead throwing me an almost excited look. "Ok, quick!" she said, pushing me towards the door. "Bust us outta here before the cops come!"

Yeah, it transpired that that wasn't quite as easy as Roxanne was making it out to be. Turns out her ex was somethin' else, and was waiting for the police on his front door step with what I think was a cricket bat, if my knowledge of Muggle recreation was correct (literally all my info comes from Rose, please don't mistake me as someone who actually cares). After unsuccessfully reasoning with the bloke (and I'm a bail agent, I'm supposed to be good at that kind of thing! Turns out that 'look, jk, my sis here is such a hoot, amiright?' wasn't a satisfactory answer) we ended up wrestling the purse out of his hands and totally legging it. "HIS MEMORY! HIS MEMORY!" Roxanne was screeching, even as the fucking POLICE were turning up, blue lights flashing and heavy boots hitting the gravel outside. I think my memory charm actually ended up hitting him in the ear, of all places, so whether we succeeded in wiping his memory remained to be seen. But someone was already pounding on the front door, "Police, open up!" so it was certainly time to get the hell out!

Apparently, Roxanne wanted to check that he wouldn't remember, but we didn't have fucking time for this. I ended up unceremoniously grabbing her around the waist and literally _threw her_ out the bathroom window.

"Oh my god, oh my god!" she was half laughing as we staggered away through the dark back garden.

" _Shut up, holy shit_!" I hissed. "Restore the window and let's Apparate, for god's sake!"

Roxanne's escapades had apparently dragged me from my uncomfortable desk to halfway across the entire bloody city; as such, neither of us had the ability to Apparate us direct to her place. Therefore, I'd just snatched her hand and we ended up disappearing from the garden where security lights were starting to turn on and someone was yelling at us to stop, and reappearing in the middle of the joke shop. As soon as we were alone amongst the black aisles, I leaned against the front counter heavily, heart still racing, while Roxanne let out a whoop.

"OH MY GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVE WE DID THAT!" she cried, throwing her shoes and purse into the air. "HA, that was brilliant!"

"Roxanne, we could've been ARRESTED!" I yelled. "DID YOUR PUNY BRAIN EVER CONSIDER THAT?"

"Relax, Dogbreath, we made it out!"

"Yeah, if it weren't for me!" I shouted, straightening now and storming over. "You are NUTS, you hear me? FUCKING NUTS."

"Whoa. What's got your knickers in a twist?" Roxanne snorted, folding her arms across her chest and cocking a hip. "If I do recall correctly, didn't you once have to do something similar? Something involving James, two broomsticks and a packet of strawberries?"

"I – THAT'S COMPLETELY DIFFERENT," I insisted.

"Mmm-hmm, how?"

"IT WAS SIX YEARS AGO!"

"Oh, I see," Roxanne sniggered. "It was before you met your Boo."

I took a deep breath. Then another. DON'T KILL YOUR SISTER, FRED. You won't be the first Weasley cousin to ever be arrested (that record did still belong to Molly – note to self, find out if her assault charges were ever put through) but I would be the first to be done for murder, and I just wasn't quite ready for that stage yet. Roxanne was admittedly putting me through the paces, though. Was she seriously this reckless, naïve and stupid _all the time_?

"Look," I said, voice shaking. "I will never ever mention this incident again, if you also swear to never talk to me about Emma again. Deal?"

"Whoa," Roxanne shot me a look. "You would NEVER give up the right to brag about my fuck ups! What gives?"

I glared at her, but she didn't back down. Of course she didn't. I wasn't going to explain my hot mess of a life to her, but apparently I can't keep anything hidden off my face. Yes, maybe I was getting a little hypocritical and irrationally angry with my sister over this, because lord knows that when James had had to bust me out of some insane woman's house at four in the morning by pelting strawberries at her, we were fucking laughing about it afterwards. But this wasn't about me, and this certainly wasn't about Emma …

Oh my god, _are my eyes actually tearing up?!_

I turned my back on my sister, angrily screwing up my face to force it all back. This was ridiculous. I wasn't bloody crying over this! But Roxanne was inching forward and saying in a voice much softer than usual, "Fred, you're like, freaking me out right now. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine! Christ, Roxie."

"Ok," she scoffed as I turned back around and faced her. "I only mention Emma and you nearly start crying."

" _I'm not fucking crying!_ "

"Again, you would never pass up the opportunity to rip into me about this night for the rest of my life," Roxanne said. "So clearly, something's happened."

To her credit, she hadn't ask me to actually tell her what'd happened. "Astute observation," I grumbled, but despite her lack of directness she clearly expected more from me. I didn't know what to tell her, but admittedly I knew she wasn't asking just to spite me. My insane sister might be a lot of things, but at the end of the day, she had been a Hufflepuff. She genuinely cared about people, and it was literally the only reason I even said anything.

"We're over," I told her shortly. "And that's all I'm gonna say."

"What? _Nooooo_ –" she whined at once but I punched her shoulder.

"Just leave it," I thundered. "And go home already, I've been awake for too long as it is. Maybe this'll teach you to think before you tell someone you're a witch. When was the last time you were even single, anyway?"

"Who says I'm single?" Roxanne asked, bending down to pick up her purse and beginning to shove her feet back into her shoes.

"You said you dumped the maniac when he locked you in the bathroom!" I said. "Or did you forget that part, along with your sanity?"

"Oh, yeah," Roxanne shrugged, balancing on one leg. "but he was just one guy. I'm talking to a few, one of them asked me out for tomorrow which I was planning on saying no to, but I think I might go there now! What d'you reckon?"

"… you're fucking kidding me."

"Hey," Roxanne smirked. "Do I ever judge you?"

"Yes," I said bluntly. "All the time."

My sister just laughed. "Then I guess we're as bad as each other then."

"You're still recklessly stupid for what you did tonight," I pointed out.

"And you fucked up with Emma," Roxanne countered back. She blew me a kiss before saying, "You do you, Fred, but maybe try apologising, works wonders. You'll be ok. LOVE YOUUUUU," she warbled before twisting and Disapparating.

It took me a long time to realise that my sister never actually told me thank you.

* * *

With Roxanne's insane life keeping me up at all hours, I was a mindless zombie the next day.

Apparently, people noticed.

"… wish you could see the look on your face," Sapphire's far-too-peachy voice chimed in. I didn't even look up from my desk as she threw her arms around my neck from behind, glancing over my shoulder. "You're thinkin' bout your girrrrrl!"

"Sapphire, honey, that paperwork ain't gonna write itself," I said sweetly.

"There he goes!" Sapphire sighed. To my utter irritation, she decided to set up shop right next to me. She pulled back before swinging her own endless pile of case files out from under her arm and slamming them onto the table opposite me. I barely even flinched at the motion, only pausing my quill as she pulled out the chair and sat down. "Deflecting once again."

"You hit my last nerve a while ago," I pointed out.

"But you admit there was a nerve to hit!" Sapphire grinned.

I was going to kill this woman one of these days. I _wish_ I had my own office located inside the building for the National Magical Insurance Company, but alas, I was only a lonesome bail enforcement agent. The actual bail bondsmen that I worked for got the fancy offices up here on the third floor, so if I didn't want to stay stuck at home for months on end while I worked through this crap, then it was work at one of the public tables in the bullpen or nothing! Sapphire apparently had the same idea as me, although I suspected that she came in purely to see if I was here to tease or not. Even then, the descriptor 'bullpen' was a bit generous: it was literally five tables and a pot plant located within the busy reception room of the Bail Bondsmen Office. Our bosses were hauled up in their offices, files swooping around magically over our heads, probably hating the paperwork season as much as we did. Still, we were the ones given the grunt work for this! Every single case that we'd worked since the last paperwork season had to be read, reviewed and signed, as well as original reports written up on any new cases that came our way. If you were smart and onto it like SOME I could mention (prissy Agent Danielle Baker was the first one I could think of off the top of my head) then you would write your report immediately after every case. If you were like me or Sapphire, though …

"You don't happen to remember that case I worked back in December, with the bloke who kidnapped his son, do you?" Sapphire asked me fearfully about twenty minutes later.

"Oh, so THIS is why you wanted my expertise," I said.

"I'm serious! I can't for the life of me remember what happened–"

"Honey, I can barely keep track of my own cases, let alone yours," I pointed out.

"I remember the time you ended up in hospital because of that woman with one arm," Sapphire smirked.

"Look, I didn't expect her to evade arrest like that!" I complained.

"SHE HAD ONE ARM!" Sapphire laughed.

"Don't you go discriminating against folks with less limbs than usual," I huffed, throwing a screwed up ball of my old notes at her nose. "I'll have you know that she was more than capable of kicking my arse! It's no wonder she didn't show up for court, she might've skipped the country if I'd been any later in tracking her down."

"How do you manage to remember everything?" Sapphire complained, the laugh dying on her face as she just gazed forlornly at her stacked-high pile of paperwork. She buried a hand into her platinum hair on the non-shaved side, planting her elbow on the table.

"It helps that I take notes," I snorted.

"For the record, a serviette with 'I caught the guy' written on it in lipstick does not count as 'notes'," Sapphire prodded said serviette, mixed in with my actual scribbled handwriting. I slapped her hand away hastily.

"Hey, at least I wrote something."

"Mmm-hmm. Where'd you get the lipstick from?"

"I may or may not have slept with the guy's sister after everything was sorted," I answered unabashedly.

"Was this before or after you started seeing Emma?"

"Before – oh, that's not the bloody point!" I huffed. "Sapphire, just learn to write your own notes for a change!"

Sapphire stuck out her tongue at me, but thankfully went back to her own (severe lack of) notes. I shook my head before once more trying trying to read my own handwriting. I'd just managed to get Emma out of my fucking head, and she goes and forces her back in there! I went back to re-reading about yet another boring case I'd once worked, but it wasn't quite blocking out that heartburn feeling that I used to get every time I looked at her. Would I ever forget that feeling? I was trying not to peer too closely at it. It was over, it was done, yes maybe I'd fallen in love a little, but I wasn't thinking about it anymore …

"Yael and Kayla found out his name."

"Huh?" I glanced up, this time at least a little thankful for the distraction. Sapphire was still leaning on her elbow, but her expression was a little more subdued this time. She twirled her quill around her fingers as she said,

"Yeah, swung by the Auror Office and caught up with them the other day," she mentioned casually. "The Reddale Killer. They found out his name. Apparently the guy isn't as slick as he thought. Turns out he's called Simon Fisherman."

It was strange hearing such a normal name fall from Sapphire's lips. Simon Fisherman could have been literally anyone. You wouldn't have thought twice with a name like that. Simon Fisherman had been wandering around normal society for years, when on the inside, he was a psychotic murderer. I didn't know how I felt hearing a name to go with the horrific label he'd been going by the last five years – _The Reddale Killer_. It stripped him of the tragedy, the horror he'd put families through, it made him seem human, and like hell did that man deserve to be humanised. The only thing _he_ deserved was to be on the wrong end of a killing curse.

But unfortunately, I wasn't a judge.

"I don't care," I ended up scoffing to the table top. "Simon or whatever, he's still the Reddale Killer. He can rot in hell."

"It's a good thing, though," Sapphire pointed out. "They're building a solid case against him now. The initial trial's scheduled for June, on the 23rd if I remember correctly. This one's gonna be huge, huh?"

"Will I have to make a statement?" I suddenly realised that that could be a very real possibility. I tried not to think about that day much, when I had severely underestimated the guy. I wanted to avoid that court room altogether, if I could help it, but if anything I said would help put him away …

"I dunno," Sapphire shrugged. "I'm sure Yael would get in contact with you if it's needed. But this is a celebration, I swear! Why do you look so pale? It's a bit of an effort when you look pale …"

"I just hate him," I said.

"Yo, Fred, I hate him too!" Sapphire kicked me under the table, making me yelp and look up. "Hell, we all do! I know he got the drop on you, but it was years ago–"

"He nearly killed me, Sapphire!" I said.

"All the more reason to celebrate that he's going to be in Azkaban a very long time," Sapphire grinned at me. "C'moooooon …"

"Fine! Whatever," I rolled my eyes. "Would you actually let me get back to work already?"

Sapphire snorted, but thankfully listened. We struggled through the paperwork all the way until five o'clock, before packing up together ("No really, are you _sure_ you don't remember my case when–?") and making our way over to the Auror Office. Familiar with the winding bullpens of the many subdivisions in the ever-expanding office, it didn't take long to catch up with Yael, Kayla and the rest of the team and discover that yes, "WE'RE FUCKING GOING OUT, BITCHES!"

"I didn't hear that …" Head Auror Huntley rubbed his temple walking past in the background, even as Yael still had his arms raised in triumph.

"I've been meaning to talk to you!" Yael also told me at one point, a little while later once we had all settled (and by 'settled' I mean 'crashed in like a pack of drunken wombats') into our favoured Muggle pub. My colleague and occasional drinking mate had clapped a hand onto my shoulder, giving me a good view of the tattoos that wound up his right arm, including a dragon, the Eiffel Tower and what I think was a Muggle gun (honestly, I didn't want to ask). The wings of another tattoo showed where the designs ended, just visible from the top of his collar at his neck.

"Yeah, and I've been meaning to say congrats!" I told him. "I'll admit I had my doubts, but it's really starting to look like Reddale's going to stay in Azkaban!"

"I can't fucking believe it either," Yael admitted, letting me go to run a hand warily through his scruffy brown beard. "Thanks for celebrating with us. You want a drink?" he added, probably noticing the lack of a glass next to me.

I winced, holding up a hand. "I'm cutting back for a bit."

"Fair enough," Yael sat down onto the stool next to me, comically bulky next to the spindly legs of the table and chairs. "Oh, and I wanted to warn you," he added. "you're probably going to get a formal request soon to be a witness at the trial. Y'know, 'bout his attack on you and shit."

I groaned. "It was five years ago, you have evidence of dozens of murders! What d'you need my statement for?"

"Darla says it's all for setting up the scene," Yael rolled his eyes. "We want to paint the most unflattering picture possible, show every crime the bastard has done and hang him up by his balls with no mercy. If he gets a hell of a good lawyer and manages to throw out his identity in the murders, at least then we can get him for the attempted murder of a Ministry Official, right?"

"Fucking Darla …" I grumbled. The prosecutor and I went waaaaay back, meaning that the woman certainly didn't like me anymore than I liked her. Something about me being a little shit, too busy hitting on her secretary than doing my job, whatever that meant.

"Yeah, I know, but if anyone should be on this case, it's her," Yael grinned.

"Whatever. Fine, I'll do it, but I won't be happy about it!" I told him.

"That's the spirit!" Yael cheered. He drank to that, but was quick to add, "Still … sorry we've gotta make you do it."

"If it helps put him away, whatever," I waved it off. It was too fucking depressing to be talking about now.

"Heeeeey, boys!" Sapphire joined us with a drink of her own, flouncing into the scene like she always seemed to do. She leaned an elbow heavily onto Yael's shoulder and grabbed at his chin with her free hand. "Whoooa, what'd this case do to you? You look like a wild Puffskien!"

"Oh, like you shave when you're chasing someone," Yael grumbled, but there was an affectionate smirk on his face as he tugged it out of Sapphire's grip.

"True, but at least I can hide whatever I shave," Sapphire pointed out. "I feel for you guys, you have to wear it on your face."

"So you're telling me you've got furry trousers on underneath those jeans?" Yael snorted.

"Who said I was talking about my legs?" Sapphire asked, causing both Yael and I to choke, the former spluttering over his drink.

"An – anyway–" I gasped as Yael coughed loudly, Sapphire just glancing between the two of us with an amused expression. "I think it's about time I cut in with a topic of conversation that isn't likely to kill any of us."

"Aw, but I was having so much fun!" Sapphire pouted.

"I bet you were," Yael grumbled into his drink.

"My best mate's having a baby!" I yelled out.

Finally, I managed to distract us all. Sapphire asked, "Seriously?" while Yael basically clapped and cheered all by himself. "Oh my god!" he cried. "Is this James? Holy shit, that bloke is having a _baby_?"

"Yeah, I know, I was as shocked as you guys are!" I said.

"Merlin, everyone's having fucking babies now," Sapphire just shook her head before draining her drink. She slammed it onto the table between Yael and me. "First my sister, then Miranda from the office, now your mate!"

"Yes, that qualifies as 'everyone'," Yael said.

Sapphire threw him a look, shoving him with her shoulder. "It sure feels like it."

"Trust me, I don't think it was planned," I told them. "I mean, admittedly they _have_ been together for like, a year or something, I don't know, but babies and shit was never on their radar. He just casually drops it into the conversation like 'Oh, fuck, I forgot that you didn't know yet!' Who the hell does that?"

Far from some sympathetic 'there, there's, both Yael and Sapphire laughed. "Mate, that's hilarious!"

"So does this make you like an uncle now or …?" Yael added, still chortling to himself.

"Oh, I don't know, my family is bloody weird," I rolled my eyes. "James is my cousin, so I guess any kid of his would be my … cousin once removed? Second cousin? I'm the last person who'd know that sort of thing. Just call me Uncle Fred and I'll be fine."

"That's so cool though, you get to be Uncle Fred!" Yael grinned.

"Yeah, admittedly aunties and uncles get it better," Sapphire smirked. "You get to hang out with them when they're being all nice and the second they start screaming, you hand them back over. Then, give them sweets so they still like you. I swear, my niece and nephew think I'm The Shizznit."

"Sound advice, I plan to take it," I said. "It's so weird to think of James as a bloody PARENT, though. He spends half his time getting himself beaten up on a Quidditch pitch, and the other half either drunk or lost his wand. Or both, actually."

"Drunk and lost his wand, now who does that sound like?" Sapphire mused.

"Hey! I don't lose my wand that often!" I said.

"Yes, sorry, you only lose it when facing down convicted criminals."

"Who asked you?" I muttered into my drink.

"Sapphire Bates, be nice," Yael swatted at her head. Sapphire ducked, aiming a teasing comment at me,

"Woooo! Someone's getting defensive!"

"No, I'm serious, how do you honestly convince people to come back and face their court hearings?" I asked. "The baby's old news now, huh?"

"Hey, no, that's still amazing!" Yael was quick to cut in. "Seriously, congratulations."

"Yeah, you'll be a great uncle or whatever the hell twice removed," Sapphire added.

"Ehhh, I doubt it, but thanks," I shrugged. "I'm not the one who has to look after it, thankfully. I don't know what the hell James is doing, but I figure it's not the first stupid thing he's gone and done. He'll probably survive."

"Have I met James? He sounds like I would probably like him," Sapphire said.

"I dunno, maybe in passing if you've been in the office at the same time, but I don't think I've ever like, introduced you, or something."

"Well, you should sometime!" Sapphire said and Yael nodded his agreement. "I'd like to congratulate him myself. And what's his girlfriend's name?"

"Libby, she's a cursebreaker and certifiably insane, so you have that in common at least."

"A cursebreaker? Oooh, like Emma?" Sapphire grinned.

"I see you bypassed the 'certifiably insane' part," I deadpanned.

"Wait, who the fuck is Emma?" Yael asked.

"Oh my god, you don't know the story!" Sapphire clutched at her heart dramatically before slamming Yael in the chest to get his attention, like she didn't have it already. As Yael gasped, doing his best to listen intently while he worked on simply breathing, Sapphire launched right in. "Get this, Fred's been seeing this girl for like, five months now! I even met her, she's pretty cool, way too cool for him, but you can't blame her for that."

"Huh," Yael glanced between me and Sapphire as if searching for the truth in that pack of … unfortunately, a lot of truths. How did this manage to happen? "Fred, I've known you like five years, and I don't think you've ever mentioned a girlfriend before!"

"SHE WASN'T MY GIRLFRIEND!" I cried.

"He wanted her to beeeee …" Sapphire sang. Then, she seemed to notice my actual words and added, "Wait … _wasn't_?"

"We stopped seeing each other like, a week ago," I sighed.

"What? WHY?" Sapphire sounded like I'd just personally offended her. You and everyone else, honey.

"C'mon, you can guess why," I said. "Shit like that doesn't last. You stop it and move on before it gets too emotional."

"But you like her!" Sapphire complained. She turned to Yael and added, "Help me out here!"

"Hey, I can't judge, I never even knew about this till now," Yael admitted.

"Sapphire, I'm assuring you that I didn't like Emma," I added.

"Bollocks, you went into total lockdown after I kissed you," Sapphire scoffed.

"Wait, now YOU GUYS got off as well?!" Yael slumped his head in his arms over the table. "That's it," his muffled voice said against his sleeves. "I'm done."

"We kissed like once, it _really_ doesn't count as getting off," I pointed out.

"Besides, it's the reason I know he's into Emma," Sapphire said. "You don't stop kissing a fucktastic woman unless your heart's in the right place with someone else."

"Fucktastic?" I said, Yael snorting with laughter.

"Normally, I'd make a comment on your tone, but we don't have time for this," Sapphire said. "My point is, Fred, you really liked Emma!"

"I wish people would stop telling me how I bloody feel," I huffed. "Honestly! I think I can sort out my own feelings myself, thanks."

"Amen, mate – seriously, Sapphire, leave it alone," Yael threw back at our colleague.

"Fine! I'll drop it," Sapphire raised her hands in defence. "Now, which of you buggers needs another drink? On me – FRED LOVES EMMA! – I had to say it once!" she cried, leaping out of the way with a laugh as I lunged to tackle her.

* * *

I stumbled home out of the fireplace at an ungodly hour for the second night in a row. Only this time, I wasn't still fuming over my sister's antics, nor was I drunk enough to simply pass out. In fact, I was stone cold sober right now and honestly … literally all I could think about was her.

For a brief second I thought, _it can't be that bad if I owl her, right?_ but I immediately clamped that down almost as soon as it was in my head. This was the reason I'd pushed her away! I was getting too emotional, and the mantra 'don't think about her' that I'd been chanting the whole week was clearly not working. I slumped down onto my sofa knowing that I wasn't just missing a warm body. I missed her laugh and the way she would dig her fingers into my ribs when she was annoyed with me. I missed the cockney accent that I could barely understand if she'd been drinking and the wild, unruly hair. I missed how she would always give me time to neatly fold our clothes rather than leaving them thrown strewn about on the floor. I missed her hands and her tea-drinking habits and I _fucking_ missed the way I'd once woken up wrapped around her.

I missed every inch of her.

Fuck.

I had to grit my teeth and press my fingers almost painfully into my eyes to stop the tears.

* * *

A/N: Oh, look, we're bottling up feelings! ( _That can't be good_ ). I'd apologise that Fred is a dick, but we kinda all knew that going into this, right? Haha, don't worry, that boy's goooone get his soul-searching on eventually.

AND THANK YOUUUU. All your reviews mean so damn much to me, especially considering that this is a Fred II/OC story. WHO EVEN READS THAT? YOU GUYS APPARENTLY AND I LOVE YOU. xx  
Quite honestly, I don't know if this chapter works or not, there's a lot happening, so please let me know?

Until next time -

\- Moon. :D


	9. That one time I fucking lost it

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 9: That one time I fucking lost it.

Look everyone, don't hold shit in.

I mean, I don't need to tell you that, right? Literally AND figuratively, _don't hold shit in!_ Bottling thoughts up is never good because as much as you may want to believe it, you are not an endless pit where feelings go to die and that shit has unfortunately gotta go somewhere. If you let it build up too much, I'm telling you that it WILL eventually explode and you're going to like an emotional explosion even less than a literal shit explosion.

Did I listen to my own advice? HAHAHAHA.

Of course not, who do you fucking think I am?

Naturally, there was an explosion.

"Honestly, this crap makes them sound like contestants on a game show!" Roxanne snorted, flipping the page of her magazine.

"You're reading _Witch Weekly_ , you expected something else?" I asked. In greeting, I dumped my bag right on top of my sister's magazine where she leaned against the front counter of the shop.

She protested loudly, "Get out, Dogbreath!"

"It's a free country–"

Roxanne just sighed exasperatedly, shoving me out of the way. I laughed at her, tugging my bag back before she could blast it apart. Instead, I moved around the front counter to peer over her shoulder at what she was reading. Sure enough, it seemed to be a mathematical analysis of the relationship statuses of this year's Quidditch hunks (the magazine's words, not mine). There was a blown up picture of each bloke, with a status bar of their details underneath. There was either a green tick, or a giant red circle with a line through it over their face. It appeared that this week, the Chelsea Cheetahs were being featured.

"So who're the available ones, then?" I asked, nudging Roxanne.

"Mmm … a few of them, but none really my age."

"When's that stopped you before?" I asked. "Didn't you once bring home a bloke who was still in Hogwarts?"

"It was summer, he'd graduated!"

"Technically, he was still seventeen," I noted.

"Besides, that was ages ago," Roxanne shook this point off. She held back her shoulders and said, "After leaping out of one too many bathroom windows for my liking, I've decided that I prefer mature men, now."

"You're 21, anyone who has a stable job and knows how to cook is mature to you!"

"You're trying to tell me that you fit the definition of 'mature'?" Roxanne raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I have a job," I said. "Cooking could be better, I admit."

Roxanne rolled her eyes before turning back to the article. "Says here that James is taken," she read.

"It bloody well better," I said, glancing down also to read the stats written about James. My best friend's photo appeared to be a promotional one that they'd taken right when he'd joined the team in December, a little wide-eyed and with absolutely no idea what he was getting into. There was a blaring red circle and cross over his grinning face.

 _Name: James Potter  
_ _Age: 25  
_ _Team position: Beater  
_ _Team member since: December, 2029  
_ _Relationship status: Potter certainly hasn't been shy to talk about the fact that he is incredibly taken. Yes, I know we all adore the loveable goof-ball that joined as a mid-season replacement last December, but he has gone on record several times talking about his very content relationship with his girlfriend. Sorry, folks!_

"Loveable goof-ball?" I snorted. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Don't worry, you're both still Idiot Twins to me," Roxanne said.

"Hey!" I protested, pointing a finger at her. "Only Rose can call us that!"

"Fine, whatever," Roxanne rolled her eyes. "Well, so far it's about an even split, with three of the main blokes taken, and the other three single. Although it's rumoured that one of the Chasers is getting off with the Seeker!"

"Ah, team dynamics …" I said fondly. I noticed then the photo for Sebastian Cortez, on the opposite page to James'. Damn it, why did he have to look so perfect? It would be utterly ridiculous to not admit that Sebastian was one good-looking dude. He was tan, muscular and had a classically suave look on his chiselled face. I wanted to punch his fucking eyes out.

 _Name: Sebastian Cortez  
_ _Age: 28  
_ _Team position: Chaser and Captain  
_ _Team member since: September, 2024  
_ _Relationship status: I think it's safe to say that most people swoon for the brooding Cortez! Having captained the last three seasons, there's no denying that he's gorgeous, but is he taken? Publically, he says no, but our sources have in fact heard rumours that he may be seeing someone. "I've seen him on more than one occasion with the same brunette beauty," an insider says. For now though, since we cannot yet confirm this, we're going to say he's single! Get in there folks, before this 'brunette beauty' takes him out!_

You know, it's starting to feel like I've got heart burn again.

" _Brunette beauty_?" I repeated in disgust.

"I know! But of course, you can't deny the 'insider source'," Roxanne laughed. "Oh, hey – which one was it that Emma kissed that one time at James' birthday? I know it was a player on his team, but I can't remember which one–"

I punched Roxanne rather suddenly and probably a bit too hard than I was intending before quickly storming for out back. My sister complained loudly, but I ignored her whines as I disappeared into the staff room of the shop. Through the door, it was just a tiny space with a table and mismatched chairs, although it opened up further down the hall into the workshop, where Dad and his other employees did all the mixing and enchantments and stuff. I sat down roughly at the table, shoving my hands into my hair.

Gossip magazines don't know shit. I knew that, of course I bloody did. My cousin-in-law, for the want of a better term, was a journalist herself, and had even worked for _Witch Weekly_ for several years. "One more feature about Audrey Lacy's _baby bump_ and how it might not be her husbands, and I am going to hang myself!" I remembered Bea Potter exclaiming loudly one birthday party of Rose's. They were hardly what you could call objective, reliable or even true, but fuck me if I still didn't want to vomit at the sight of 'brunette beauty'. It was stupid because a) there was absolutely no confirmation whatsoever that this beauty was Emma at all, b) would be a hell of a longshot if it was, and c) I DON'T FUCKING CARE, REMEMBER?! I wrestled with that fact for several moments, until eventually Dad stuck his head into the break room and asked if I was having a meltdown or something.

"Noooope, I'm totally fine!" I leapt up, brightly.

But the thoughts plagued me all day, no matter how ridiculous. Buggering hell, it was this exact reason that I don't do relationships to begin with! They send you crazy, they make you doubt everything and believe everything at the same time, and they make you wander around a joke shop pretending to re-stock shelves when really, all you're doing is fantasising about plotting a Quidditch player's murder and getting away with it. Roxanne lost all patience with me around lunch time and by closing, she was just about ready to beat me to a pulp. I almost had half a mind to let her, since lord knew that beating the shit out of me might do me some good. I let her leave though, my sister flouncing out past me into the fading light of Diagon Alley and calling out, "Don't talk to me until you've stopped being a bitch! LOVE YOUUU!" It was about then, as I was yelling out to Dad that I was heading out as well, when I remembered that I did technically have Emma's address. I had sent her owls at any bloody hour, so of course I knew where she lived, even if I'd never actually been there.

I suddenly ground to a halt in the middle of Diagon Alley. I could go there and …

What, Fred? _Do what?_ You're sure as hell not going to talk rationally about this, so what do you plan on doing, exactly? Besides, I had absolutely no right in straight out asking her, "Are you going out with Sebastian Cortez? Why? Oh, just so I know whether I need to kill him or not," I dumped her! (For the want of a better way to put it). I had no business poking around any aspect of her life anymore. Actually, did I ever have that right? I'd said time and time again that we were never together. This was exactly like when she'd been yelling at me that last time in my flat, yelling that I couldn't fuck around with her anymore and that if I'd wanted her to stay, then I should have said it. I hadn't said it. So I had to leave her alone. Hell, I should WANT to leave her alone!

About ten minutes later, I found myself outside her building.

The answer is NO, I don't know what the hell I'm doing with my life, but I'm fucking here, so I might as well go through with this! I stared at the main doors to the building for about five seconds, wondering whether I had the guts to actually buzz her flat, but thankfully someone coming out was able to let me in. I'd never really been in this part of town before, this building being a part of several local council estates around East London. It looked clean but shabby in here, like the residents made do with the best they had. The flats all circled a large courtyard that was currently empty, but littered with overflowing rubbish skips and graffiti. I climbed to the second floor and found number 25, where I then proceeded to stare at Emma's front door for the next … oh, hour and forty seven minutes.

But who's counting?

I couldn't do it! _Just knock on the fucking door, you eejit!_ , my brain was yelling at me, but the thought of her answering it crushed the breath out of me. Oh my god, oh my god, what if she actually answered? What if HE answered? What if they both answered and stared down at me like, _omg this poor bastard, look how he royally fucked up his life. Haha!_ Every time I steeled my resolve and took a step forward, I'd immediately falter and back up again. Eventually, I sat on the floor, leaning against the railings opposite that overlooked the cold and dreary courtyard below. Occasionally people would walk past me down the concrete hallway and while at first I would suddenly pretend to be walking in the opposite direction with a hasty, 'Hi!' I eventually couldn't be bothered even getting up. "Don't mind me, locked out!" I called to one couple. I even helped Mrs Doddery carry her shopping down the hall, chatting pleasantly about our new post boxes that'd just been installed at one point.

By the time I made it back to Emma's flat, I realised that this had gone far enough. I either had to do it, or leave, not keep hanging out around here like a creeper! But just as I gritted my teeth and stormed forward, the door suddenly started opening. Shit! I swung around wildly on the spot, quickly walking away as fast as I could as Emma came out. I didn't dare look back and see if she was with anyone, but she closed the door behind her and started walking in the opposite direction, towards the building exit.

Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

Just go up to her! Come on, just run and catch up and fucking talk to the woman. You slept with her god knows how many times, you've seen her stark naked, how hard could it be to just say hi? I hastily spun back around despite myself and hurried after her. By the time I caught up, she was already in the street, making her way through the occasional fellow Londoners on the footpaths. I kept my distance though, watching her. She looked … _glam_. Not that she ever turned up at my place looking horrible, but she was wearing this dark blue dress and black leather jacket and DAMN, she was smokin' right now! Instead of rocking on over straight from work, she'd actually put an effort into how she looked, and god, I liked it. Where on earth was she going?

I still couldn't bring myself to go and talk to her. It actually got to the point where I realised that she was heading for the nearest train station and I figured weeelp, that's it, I swear I'm not following her onto the same goddamned train!

I bought a ticket.

My life is literally a mess right now.

I ended up following Emma all the way across the bloody city, near James' building. I actually thought for a moment that she had to be going to visit him and Libby or something, but then why wouldn't she just Floo there, and why would she turn up looking like she was about to kick off her heels and whisper ' _fuck me_ '? Nope, turns out she was aiming for Café Julio, a popular little place where aforementioned Jabby used to work together and ultimately fell in love in (or at least that's how James puts it). Finally! I'd buy a coffee then just casually bump into her, it'd be fine! It'd be a random meeting, rather than say me actually seeking her out at her flat. Actually, that was probably better and much safer for all! But just as I was about to follow her inside, I saw her wave and call out to someone clearly waiting outside the café for her.

SEBASTIAN FUCKING CORTEZ.

Today is just not my day.

My head was buzzing angrily and my blood boiled just watching them. He greeted her with a light kiss on the cheek and they went inside happily together. What the actual FUCK? They were seeing each other, the magazines were true, I KNEW IT! Well, ok, one observed date (and who knows, maybe this was just a business meeting between a Quidditch player and a Cursebreaker?) didn't exactly confirm any rumours, but that's not the point, I'm sure. I slunk inside the café once I was certain they had to be seated now and sure enough, Emma had a seat at a two-person table facing away from me while Sebastian waited in line at the counter to order. Now was essentially my last chance. I could go over there and confront her, or I could go home. Why the hell was I doing this? What was it going to do, really – did I want her to explain herself or something? Did I want to provoke her, get a reaction, WHAT FRED, WHAT DO YOU WANT? Honestly, my plan here had been to never see her again, get over her quickly and swiftly, then go back to my usual lifestyle of sex and Fred-awesomeness. BOOM.

This wasn't the way to go about it, Fred.

Also, I hesitated too long.

Sebastian had swung back to the table with a number on a stick in his hand and I simply couldn't watch anymore. I glanced away hastily until someone behind me asked, "Uhhh, are you in line?" I looked up to see a gap in front of me and then the end of the queue for the front counter.

"Oh – yes, sorry," I said, stepping forward.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE.

It was about fifteen minutes later and I'd just reached the front counter and ordered nachos (seeing as I was actually hungry at this point) when I realised what day this was. James and Libby themselves waltzed into the café, looking all sweet and happy and shit. They say pregnant women have a glow about them, but Libby just looked pale like she'd been throwing up all afternoon. Still, she grinned as she and James talked and aimed for the end of the line.

Of course. It was their anniversary today!

"You going to pay sometime, love?"

"Oh, right–" I dug in my pocket for some Muggle money, handing it over. Taking my own number, I waited until James and Libby had ordered and sat down at their own table. I knew this was ridiculous, I knew I should just go home, BUUUT.

Bingo. Opportunity.

"OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS!" I yelled, waving at them frantically.

Yep, way to be subtle. Ehhh, minor detail.

Both James and Libby looked over in bewildered shock as I bounded happily up to their table. James had his eyes glaring in slits while Libby looked ready to murder something as I drew up a chair in between them. "Fancy seeing you!" I said cheerfully. "I had no idea you'd be here! Have you guys ordered yet? I just got nachos, I am _starving_ – oh, heeey!" I clapped a hand on each of their shoulders and grinned, " _Happy anniversary, guyyyyyys_!"

"… um, Fred?" Libby said lightly as I let go and placed my number onto the table top. "I mean this in the nicest way possible … but what the HELL are you doing here?"

"Hanging out with my mates, of course!" I said as if it were obvious.

"Yeah, listen _mate_ ," James was throwing me a look that quite plainly said _I know what you're doing, Fred_. Whatever, YOU DON'T KNOW. "Like you rightly pointed out, it's our anniversary. So no offence, but GOOOOO AWAY!"

"Ah, we just do not get out like this anymore, do we?" I mused, deciding it was best to ignore that statement. I wasn't entirely sure what my plan was here, but based on what I was going on so far, it seemed to be 'try and get Emma's attention without actually getting her attention'. I glanced over Libby's shoulder and noticed that from where I was sitting, she still had her back to us. Damn it. "You know, we should all hang out more often!" I noted then, turning back to the exasperated duo in front of me. "I wonder what the others are all doing – hey, wouldn't it be cool if they all came here, too? What d'you think? It's a great idea, right? I should give them a call – I'LL GO CALL THEM!"

The more people, the more likely Emma was to spot us! I think I might be spiralling, guys, but BRILLIANT IDEA was flashing through my head and I leapt up to go tearing for the counter once more. I left behind James and Libby at their table, who I think looked a little like someone had just smashed a rock over their heads. I cut the line hastily despite protests and said to the waitress,

"Hi! Yes, do you have a phone I could use?"

"A phone? You know we have free Wi-Fi, right?" the waitress raised an eyebrow.

I blinked. Yes, Wi-Fi, I can sooo remember what that was …

The waitress sighed. "Talk to the manager, Aurora, over there. I'm afraid you're holding up the line, Sir."

Oh, I talked to the manager all right. She let me use the phone, although she stood there with her arms folded like I might use the thing to blow up the entire café or something. Honestly! Just because I couldn't remember what the hell Wi-Fi was. It sounded like some new dance craze. "C'mon guys, let's do the Wi-Fi!" … anyway.

" _Fred, there is no way_ ," Rose's flat voice came from down her end of the phone. " _It's James and Libby's first anniversary, and I am not crashing it just because you're going mental!_ "

"But we're all hanging out, it'll be fun," I pleaded.

" _No! I'm not doing it, you're nuts!_ "

"Rosie, I love you," I said sweetly. "but if you and Scorpius don't get down here and bring Al and Bea with you, I'm afraid I will have to kill you all."

There was a pause. Then, Rose asked,

" _Fred, are you high right now?_ "

"ROSE!"

" _All right, all right!_ " Rose sighed. " _Sweet baby Jesus, ok … I'm going to hate myself forever, but ok, we'll see you soon. I don't know what the hell you're planning, but I expect you to pay for my meal_."

"Deal!" I grinned. "See you soon!"

" _You are insane_ ," Rose slammed the phone down.

Love my cousin.

True to her word, they turned up rather promptly, in varying degrees of confusion and apologetic looks. I didn't know what the hell they're all complaining about! They get to hang out for an evening of joy and merriment while I spring for the meal! There was literally nothing bad about this, I figured, as I greeted them enthusiastically with hugs all around, but if the vibe I was getting from Libby was anything to go off, I'd be lucky to survive the night. Oh, what does she know?

I was hoping that with the amount of us, shoving two tables together and myself carrying on a lively, loud and I'm sure very riveting conversation that carried across the café, we'd attract Emma's attention for sure. However, she hadn't seemed to notice us yet, which I've got to say is impressive. It's either that or she's ignoring us extremely well. Rose and Bea were exchanging looks down their end of the table, while James seemed to be lost inside his own head. Everyone was looking rather awkward, to be honest, but I didn't have the faintest idea why – this was going great!

But eventually, the stimulating conversations just weren't doing it. Emma wasn't looking. I somehow got a new steely resolve. After all, I'd come this far, and now I wasn't leaving this café without some bloody answers.

"This should definitely be a regular thing, all of us hanging out together," I said cheerfully. "OH MY GOD, like a date night!"

"Yeah, well, to be fair, next time we would rather like to go on a date by ourselves," James muttered next to me.

Seizing my opportunity, I practically yelled then, "Wait – speaking of dates, is that EMMA over there?"

Everyone at the table froze. Al's fork clattered on his plate.

"Oh, is it? I didn't notice," Rose said casually.

"Yeah, it is!" Bea agreed.

"Whaddaya know?" Libby grumbled.

"Never would have guessed," Scorpius deadpanned.

"I HAD NO IDEA!" Al screeched. Everyone glanced at him and my cousin just shrugged, "What?"

"We don't hang out with Emma enough," I said knowingly. "Hey – we should invite her over!" There was no way she could turn down an honest invite, date or no date. Hell, there wasn't any proof that what she was on WAS a date! I'm still holding out for that business meeting, I'll have you know. It seemed that Libby thought I was honestly going a little crazy as I started yelling across the café at Emma, since she was hissing at James to fucking do something, but I ignored them both. I would've thought it impossible to not notice me yelling, "HEY, EMMA!" across the café, but it was only until a helpful old lady pointed me out that Emma turned around.

Finally, she noticed me.

For a second, we stared at each other across the café. Something about her expression told me that she already knew I was here, which ok, I'll give her that. Maybe I have finally lost it. I couldn't interpret the look on her face; I'd seen her with many expressions, whether it was angry and scowling, or moaning in pleasure, but this was one was weird. It was like she was disappointed in her meal, but terrified to eat it at the same time.

"Emma!" I mimed over at our table. "Come over!"

"It's fine," Emma mouthed back, pointing to her own table.

"NO _REALLY_!"

She ended up coming over. Guys, I've fucking got this.

While the others all stared at this unfolding with wide eyes, Emma eventually found her way over to our table after saying something to Sebastian the Fucktard. Rose was muttering under her breath something about points (I don't know) and Emma called out, "Hey!" like this was totally normal. "I di'nt know you were all comin' out tonight! James, Libby, I thought it was your anniversary?"

" _It was_ ," Libby said.

"Erm, apparently our plans got changed? Besides," James grinned at his friend. "what are _you_ doing here?"

"Yes, what're you DOING here?" I reiterated.

Emma barely glanced at me. I'd finally managed to get her attention, and now she just carries on ignoring me like a brick wall? I don't fucking think so! But Emma claimed to her friends that she'd finally said yes to Sebastian asking her out and suddenly, the business meeting theory had been cannonballed. _Shit_. This douchebag did in fact ask her out. _What, are you angry because he did it before you did?_ My brain spat back. _Please. Don't kid yourself. You want her, but you don't want her at the same time._

I've discovered that my brain is a little bitch to me most the time.

"So you're having a good time, then?" I found myself asking.

Emma turned and threw me a look as everyone else cut themselves off mid-sentence to listen. "Yes," she said shortly.

I snorted as I nodded towards Sebastian. "With _that_ bloke?"

"Oh, no," Emma said through gritted teeth and a smile on her face. "Sorry, Fred, but you do not get to do this to me. I'm leavin'."

"Emma–"

" _No_ ," Emma suddenly whirled around and slammed a hand onto the table. I matched her blazing look. I wasn't backing down. Everyone jumped slightly at the motion as Emma thundered, " _No_ , Fred! You dumped me, _you_ screwed up, I am allowed to move on with my life! What, did you _stalk_ me here?"

"Stalk–?" I began uselessly.

" _Deny it, deny it_!" James hissed at me.

"Oh my god!" Emma cried before I could even defend myself. _I stood outside your bloody flat for over an hour, trying to figure out how to talk to you! I followed you onto the same goddamn train trying to figure out why I was being such a fucking coward!_ But before I could figure out how to say any of this, Emma continued.

"Look, word of advice, mate?" She folded her arms. "You like a girl? _Tell her, don't follow her_!"

Everyone sat there in stunned silence for a moment (Rose now writing something on a serviette and muttering, " _Another one to Emma …_ "). Something was free-falling inside me, with that kind of abject terror you get when you know that you're going to hit the ground at some point, but just don't know when. The something might've been my heart. I don't know. Besides, that was about when the Master of Douchbagery himself showed up.

"Bloody nora …" James muttered.

"Emma, you all right over here?" Sebastian asked, approaching our table.

"Yes, definitely!" Emma seemed to want to hurry away as fast as possible. She grabbed his arm and made to leave. "C'mon, let's go–"

"Hang on!" Sebastian grinned and held out a hand to clap James' in a handshake across the table. TRAITOR. "James, mate!" he said, taking in the extraordinary collection of people at this here table. "Good to see you're still alive after that cracked rib today!"

"Yeah, thanks for that," James said. "And thanks for lying to my face, by the way!" He was nodding at Emma with a good-natured smile, but my brain was just screaming _why are you talking to him like a normal human being?! HE IS CLEARLY A DEMON!_

"Oh, shut it–" Sebastian began. He glanced around the table and opened his mouth as if to say something … but he caught my eye.

I think it's safe to say he recognises me.

"– _you_ ," he snarled.

You have no idea how much I wanted to pull out a villainous cape, swish it around my shoulders and answer back with, " _Me_ ," but I figured that was the crazy talking.

"Jesus, who let the douchebag in?" I said bitterly without even thinking.

"Ok, look mate–!" Sebastian began with a scowl, storming forward. I stood determinedly from my chair to face him with a fierce look, but that was when everyone else suddenly intervened. Emma grabbed Sebastian's arm and James practically hurtled around the table to suddenly throw himself between Libby and his teammate. For a second, we all glared as the others stared in stunned silence.

"If ANYONE moves!" Emma yelled out then. "I swear, I'LL CLOCK YA!"

I looked up at her and her worried face and I simply lost all motivation. I was over this. I couldn't keep doing this. Hell, I was about ready to punch the fuck out of her date FOR THE SECOND TIME, NO LESS, and she wouldn't have even cared. She was supposed to have fallen for me, she had been the one trying to convince me that we could work, and here she was on a date with somebody else! Without so much as a warning, I felt my heart complete it's free fall and suddenly hit the ground.

 _Smash_.

My expression turned thunderous.

"What the hell, Emma?" I said.

Everyone's faces snapped towards me, but I ignored them. Hers was the only one I cared about getting through to. "I know I caused this huge colossal mess, but it's been two weeks. _Two weeks_. You were gutted! Did I mean nothing?"

"Yes!" Emma yelled. Everyone's faces quickly turned to hers. "Fred, you said it first! _I think we should stop seeing each other_ ," She mocked my voice with a ridiculous deep one which hit me yet again. "Well, we did! We stopped seeing each other, it's over now, and fuck you for trying to tell me that I should have some kind of misguided respect for our 'relationship' when it's clear that you never did! You're not my boyfriend, Fred, you're not my 'lover', you're not my _anything_!" Emma was still holding back Sebastian by the arm, and I could see her grip tightening. I picked up my glass of water from the table for something to do but the second it was in my hands I wondered if that had been the best idea, since now all I wanted to do now was hurl it between Sebastian's eyes. "You're justa bloke I used to mess around with! You don't get to tell me how I felt, you don't even KNOW me! So stop it, alright? _Just stop it_."

I don't think I can explain the way that her words hurt. Hell, I broke both my legs once and it hurt even less than this. It was huge and blinding, but also a slow throbbing kind of pain at the same time. Every thud of my burning chest sent the ache further and further around my body, to the point where I literally couldn't handle it anymore. _I don't know her?_ Yeah, ok, I still might not know how old she is, or even what her fucking last name was, and I know I had a moment of freaking out over this, but FUCK IT, I know her!

In fact, I remembered one morning a couple of weeks ago. I'd stomped into the kitchen bleary-eyed and grumpy, wanting caffeine like I didn't want to admit that I wanted her sometimes. I'd opened up the cupboard though, and to my horror, found myself facing about six boxes of different flavoured teabags … but no coffee.

" _Emma_ …" I'd growled into the cupboard.

I looked up at her then across the table. Her eyes stared straight back as I scowled.

"I don't know you? Ok. Whatever," I said. "Your date only brought you to a café, that doesn't matter." I slammed my glass back down onto the table. I kicked my chair away before furiously storming around it for the exit. Everyone watched me go in silence, but I suddenly had something else to add, and I spun back around.

"Hey, mate, do yourself a favour, ok?" I spat at Sebastian. "Never buy her coffee. She _hates_ it."

I didn't wait to see her reaction. I didn't acknowledge anyone else. I simply stormed straight out of that café with the hope that I might never ever see Emma again. My feet pounded the pavement and the sound reverberated straight up into my head, which was kind of ringing. I was so angry that I realised I didn't have any idea where I was going and ground to a halt in the middle of the busy London street.

Well. What the flying fuck do I do now?

* * *

Don't judge me for what happened next … but I went to the first pub I saw, drank enough vodka until I couldn't see straight, and shagged the first girl I could find.

And that was the first hour.

* * *

I staggered home about three in the morning, only to find James up and waiting for me.

"Ohhhhhh, HEY!" I warbled happily, waving. Whoooa, James had like three heads! He also looked like was gonna stab me. Maybe I should duck? "LOOK OUT!" I yelled, suddenly dropping to the floor.

James just eyed me warily from where he sat bolt upright on my sofa, arms folded across his chest. I glanced up from the carpet.

"Are you gonna kill me?"

"Considering it," he answered. "Tell me, do you happen to remember a little while ago how I told you not to go and do anything stupid?"

"… yeah?"

"You did something stupid."

"I made a trainwreck out of it, huh?"

"A beautiful, beautiful trainwreck," James shrugged lightly. "But yeah, A BLOODY TRAINWRECK. Seriously, Fred, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Hey! Sooooorrrry if I haven't grown up as fast as you," I grumbled, struggling back onto my hands and knees so I didn't have to lie on the floor anymore. Moving that fast made my head spin though, so I stayed sitting on the floor, talking to my best mate like he wasn't currently swaying like in an ocean current. Like seaweed! Shit, my brain needs to stop thinking …

"Mate, you crashed my one and only first anniversary," James pointed out, exasperatedly.

"I know, I know! But it was the only way to get her attention!"

"Ever thought of just talking to her?"

"I tried!" I pointed at him. "I tried for like, twenty miles! I even helped an old lady with her shopping and got on the same train!"

James just blinked. "I think I need to get as drunk as you just so I understand what you're saying," he said eventually, standing up. "You got anything?"

"I dunno, check the fridge."

"You've got half a bottle of Malibu and one beer in here!" James ended up yelling back from the kitchen.

"The Malibu's Emma's!" I yelled back.

"Naturally," James returned carrying the bottle in one hand, and a carton of open orange juice in the other. He took a swig of both in quick succession before collapsing onto the floor with me. "Right!" he said. "Talk to me, mate. What the bloody hell happened back there?"

So we talked on my living room floor. Well, talked is a bit of a stretch. Talking implies a reciprocal conversation of back and forth exchange. Mostly what happened is I rambled uselessly about how I was so fucking in love with Emma that I lost it while James just quietly caught up to me. "Blimey, I'm not going to remember this in the morning …" I muttered, rubbing my head. Which reminded me, "Oh … is Libby–?"

"Yeah, she hates you," James grinned.

"Fuck."

"But not really. She's exhausted, so I left her in bed and said I was going to try and find you."

"Tell her I'll make it up to her," I warbled. "Ohhhhh, I know, tell her I'll babysit for you guys sometime so you guys can like, have sex and shit without someone cryin' bout it!"

"If you think we are going to let you look after our future child, you've got another thing coming," James snorted with laughter.

I laughed at that as well, because I wouldn't fucking trust me with a baby either. Look at me, I'm a hot mess! "It'll be cute, though," I pointed out.

"This baby's half me, half Libby, he or she's gonna be gorgeous," James grinned. He nudged me with his foot then as I moved to flop over the floor onto my back and added, "So go on. You stormed off. Where've you been all night?"

"Gettin' plastered."

"Clearly, but do explain."

I remembered back on the insane night I'd had, from the moment I'd decided to go to Emma's flat, to roughly an hour ago when I was being thrown out of pub number five because I refused to take 'last call' as an answer. I remembered the girl from pub number one, who's name I hadn't even bothered learning as I'd simply approached her and said, "Hi, I'm Fred. Wanna have sex?" My head was pounding by the time I recalled pub number three, where some bloke punched me for hitting on his girlfriend and I ended up snogging her sister instead. I couldn't even remember how many people I actually slept with over the course of the night. It didn't matter. I could've slept with every woman in Greater London and still not been able to get Emma out of my bloody head. Hands touched me and lips kissed me, but with the right amount of alcohol I could close my eyes and at least pretend it was her.

"I got punched in a bar fight, kicked out of a pub and slept with either 2 or 3 different people, I forget which."

James stared at me for a moment, before taking a shot of Malibu straight. "Shiiiiit," he said.

"Don't tell Emma."

"You know that's not the way to get over her, right?"

"I can try!" I insisted.

"I know, I know," James snorted. "Look, mate, I won't tell ya how to live your life. But next time you want to go out and get hammered, at least owl me first, yeah?"

"Sure, whatever," I huffed.

* * *

It wasn't until the next morning where I actually felt coherent enough to properly think. I woke up alongside James, apparently the two of us both having passed out on my living room floor, using each other as pillows. I groaned as I forced myself upright and glanced down at a snoring James. I shoved at him and he woke with a start.

"Blimey," he complained, rubbing his head. "What time is it?"

"Dunno, I'll find out," I made to get up so that I could go check the nearest clock in the kitchen, but I paused. I glanced back at my best friend.

"James?"

"What?"

"… I'm sorry."

James just snorted up at me.

"Don't worry, mate. I know."

* * *

A/N: Fred crashing Jabby's anniversary and confronting Emma was literally my favourite moment from WJML. Back then, I was crying with laughter over it. But from Fred's POV, it's suddenly kind of heartbreaking and I'm like, super sorry?

CAUSE I KNOW. Fred is currently feeling feelings for the first time and he's #dealingwithit in the only way he knows how. He's clearly doing a bang up job, lol.

THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU, PLEASE TELL ME ON A SCALE OF 1-10 HOW MUCH OF AN IDIOT FRED IS!

Until next time -

\- Moon. :D


	10. That one time I relapsed

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 10: That one time I relapsed.

I didn't see Emma again for nearly six months.

Naturally, it was next to impossible to avoid her completely, because as we all know, she was the last person in the world I should have slept with for a reason! I heard about her through the others. Accidentally caught a glimpse of her hair once at an after-party for one of James' Quidditch matches. Might've mentioned her a couple more times when I was drunk. Buuuut, I'm Fred Fucking Weasley, and I wasn't going to let one woman stop me from having a life! Noooo sir, finally I was free to live like normal! I could go back to what I was comfortable with: booze and _da ladieeees_.

"You know, at some point you're going to have to try and get over her without alcohol and sleeping with other women!" James had yelled at me once, even as I had my tongue down the throat of a lovely girl I'd met at some club. I'd just waved a hand dismissively at James behind the girl's back, causing him to huff in exasperation and claim to anyone listening,

"I'm not even being paid for this!"

I told him time and time again that he didn't need to insist on coming out to town with me. The bloke had a pregnant girlfriend to look after, he didn't need to be hauling his arse after me every night, but _apparently_ my best friend was under the impression that I was going out on this massive bender and that I was going to get myself killed or something. WAY TO BE DRAMATIC, JAMES! Whatever, I ended up indulging him and his protectiveness. Anyway, it was probably just his fatherly instincts starting to come out, seeing as Libby drew closer and closer to her due date with every week that went by.

"Holy shit, Gorgeous, you're fucking huge!" I'd exclaimed loudly once when I hadn't seen her for literally only two weeks, and it honestly looked like she had swallowed a small planet in that short amount of time.

"I'd strangle you if I could be bothered," Libby had snorted at me.

My life had quickly fallen back into its regular old routines of before. Work and fun at the joke shop, staking out criminals and drinking with the Auror lot, hanging out with James, and scoring myself a hot girl for the night. And shut up, I liked it! It was familiar, it was comfortable and it was something that I knew I was capable of. This was my life, exactly the way I wanted it! I ignored that whiney, anxious heartburn feeling that crushed my chest sometimes, because what the hell did it know? It was just a feeling!

Occasionally though when I gave myself a moment to breathe, like when I would sit back at my desk, or leaned against the bar planted on a stool in a pub, my mind would stray. And I would wonder how this had actually all seemed so much more thrilling before Emma had roared into my life.

Those were the most dangerous times and I tried to avoid them as much as possible. It was far too easy in those moments to accidentally start thinking about her, and that would lead to me wanting to see her. To be with her. And GODDAMN IT, we went through this Fred! RIDICULOSULY BAD IDEA™! I rarely spent any time alone as a result, since it was much easier distracting myself when surrounded by other people. I kept letting James tag along with me. I threw the occasional party, like on Sapphire's birthday, or my own in July. And it worked, more or less.

The one time I remember my resolve seriously slipping was the day the Reddale Killer finally went to trial in June. Look, I know I come off as this roguish scoundrel with a tough face and pretty eyes (shut up, really!) but underneath, I'll secretly let you know that I can be a rather delicate being. Meaning, yeah, sometimes I still thought back on the night Reddale had attacked me. Given my choice, I would have been fucking nowhere near that courtroom, but as it was, I'd been forced to relive the case in front of fifty other people.

He'd literally stood across the room from me! _Simon Fisherman_. So fucking normal looking in his dress robes and hotshot lawyer pleading not guilty, but the bastard was being accused of the murders of over twenty different people, and that wasn't even including the attempted murders and assaults he'd committed along the way. His eyes had been lifeless, staring at me as I spoke in stops and starts, completely butchering what Darla the prosecutor had told me before the hearing started,

"We're sending the sick bastard to Azkaban, right?" she'd asked.

"Right–"

" _Wrong_!" Darla boomed, peering at me from behind her glasses. "You say 'right' like that, and we're all screwed! You say 'right' like you mean it!"

"RIGHT!"

"That's it!" Darla had smacked me on the back, causing me to nearly fall over, seeing as my legs had already felt like rubber as it was. "We're taking this son of a bitch down, but you need to be confident AS FUCK up here, you hear me? Don't let him defeat you! I know what you lived through, I was there, but I need you to explain everything. Don't be afraid to tell the court what he did. You're a victim, and he needs to pay for his actions. Can you do it?"

"I think so," I'd said, although I had my misgivings at this point.

" _Like you mean it_!" Darla had cried.

"I THINK SO!" I'd ended up screaming.

And so naturally, I found myself on the stand, unable to remember a goddamned thing.

I'd reviewed the case notes, I knew what to say and how exactly to say it, but this had all happened five bloody years ago! I was literally still 20 years old at the time and it had been one of my first cases as a bail enforcement agent. I'd been a cocky little bugger back then (what? I'm not now! … much) and I just hadn't anticipated it happening. Had I been more prepared for what the job actually entailed, I might have actually caught and arrested the sicko, but as it was …

"It was touch and go, but you did bloody fantastic!" Darla had punched the air with her brief case after the hearing, so at least I didn't royally mess up, as I'd figured. I'd been drained from the effort though, something I didn't like to admit to much, and in that moment of Sapphire squeezing my shoulder and Kayla reaching out and hugging me, I'd had to wrestle with the mad idea of … I didn't want to be alone that night.

Which was fine, I hardly ever did spend the night alone. Yael had turned up, throwing his arm around Kayla's shoulders and we were all making plans to celebrate the success of the hearing that night and it would be fine, I'd find somebody and everything would be ok! But I'd felt like someone had kicked me in the gut and sometimes, you just want to be held. My chest had protested that no, I didn't just want to find 'somebody' I wanted fucking Emma, ok? I wanted someone who knew me and my faults, someone who wouldn't judge me for being anything less than my usual fucktard self, someone I could just crawl onto my sofa with, wrap an arm around and fall asleep against.

But WHOA, FUCKING SHIT, FRED.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

SHAKE IT OFF, MATE.

 _SHAKE IT OFF!_

Thankfully, I had and instead of going out with the others, I'd forced myself to go home. I hardly ever let my mum fuss over me, and maybe I could even get Dad at the dinner table to join us! It hadn't been quite the same, and maybe I still had that image of her in my head, but at least hanging with my parents had brought back a peace of mind. It'd been another couple of weeks before we'd gotten the official news that the Reddale case had cleared and was going to full trial with a jury, testimonies and the whoooole she-bang. Naturally, it meant more champagne, yelling, and of course another speech from Yael sobbing into his glass as Kayla snorted fondly at him. I didn't forget that a full trial meant that I would have to give an even more thorough statement further down the line … but I'd cross that bridge when it came to it.

When I finally did see Emma again, it was certainly NOT my idea.

"What the hell are you asking me for?" I asked Libby in bewilderment.

James' very pregnant girlfriend just rolled her eyes at me, the two of us in line for coffee. Sure, Café Julio probably didn't like me very much anymore, but damn, it made some good coffee! I was determined to never drink tea again after the last fiasco here. Libby had surprised me with a suggested meet-up during her lunch break, which wasn't something we usually did, but screw it, I liked hanging out with Libby. Sure, she complained about her swollen ankles a lot recently, and looked like she was going to pop the kid out any day, but she was still that quirky Libby Fletcher underneath. When she'd proposed her idea to me in line, I figured that that baby had to be pressing on her nerve endings or something, because she was bloody trippin' now!

"Because," Libby answered me. "With James out of the country, I don't want to go by myself!"

"But what the hell is this gala thingy anyway?" I asked with a wrinkled nose.

"It's an annual thing, work does it every September," Libby told me, the two of us stepping up further forward in the line. "The bank hosts this huge gala for the Cursebreakers and connected parties, like museum curators and independent contractors. They try to make it this swanky dress-robe event with awards and shit, but really it's just glorified fundraising and schmoozing old rich guys into donating more money into the bank so we can keep the Cursebreaker programme running. I kind of hate the thing, actually," Libby added.

"Then why do you go?"

"We're forced to!" Libby bumped my arm. "Trust me, I am 34-weeks-pregnant here, I would NOT be going to this if I had any say!"

"Libby, maybe I'm being obvious in pointing this out, but James told me that you literally have a crystallised skull in your office," I mentioned. I didn't say that it was actually Emma who had told me that, rather than James, we didn't need to get into it. "Just putting it out there, you could totally rustle up some diamonds or whatever and be out cruising the Carribean right about now."

"Oh, trust me," Libby said. "The girls and I have plotted out many scenarios in which we go rogue and skip the country! Unfortunately, we kind of like our jobs."

"But why do you want _me_ to go with you?" I had to ask yet again. Considering that I was fairly certain she would never forgive me for having a fucking mental breakdown and crashing her anniversary, I figured she wouldn't even want me within two feet of her! Let's face it, I wouldn't trust me being within ten feet of a diamond any more than I'd trust me with an explosive.

"I told you, James isn't back yet, and I kind of forgot that it was on tomorrow," Libby admitted, sheepishly. "To be fair, I've been busy painting the baby's room, and–"

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes at the baby talk. Trust James to get hauled to the other side of the world for a week-long Quidditch training in a foreign country when his girlfriend was due to have his baby in just over a month. "This still doesn't explain why you're asking me."

"You are my friend, are you not?" Libby smirked.

"Oh, so you like me now?"

"Aw, Fred," Libby sighed exasperatedly, squeezing my elbow as we nearly reached the front of the line. "Of course I do. You're an idiot, and you need to learn how to handle expressing your feelings, but I love you."

"Jesus, Libby."

"Look, I cannot go alone to this kind of thing," she said. "These old codgers would leap on me like a shark! Last year, I accidentally ran into my ex and James ended up getting his arsed kicked by him, so if he turns up again I'm going to need back up. I mean, I'm so goddamned pregnant that I'll need help even getting out of my chair."

"If I say yes, will I hear about this for the rest of my given life?"

"Oh, naturally," Libby grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, whatever. But I'm not getting beaten up by any exes for you."

"YUS! Thank you!" Libby hugged my arm gleefully and didn't let go, even as we stepped up to the counter and ordered. "And don't worry, you probably won't have to fight him. He'll see that I'm pregnant and will probably run a mile!" Honestly, this woman. She was nuts, although I can kind of figure why James liked her. It wasn't until we had been handed over our coffees and we'd made our way back out into the street, Libby pausing and amusedly balancing her decaf on top of her large tummy for a moment while she shoved her wallet back inside her purse, when I realised something.

OH MY GOD.

"Libby?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm as she picked up her coffee and we set off once more, aiming for the Leaky Cauldron not far away. "Innocent question, here … but is Emma going to be at this gala?"

"Mmmm …" Libby hummed in a high-pitched tune.

"LIBBY."

"What? Emma? Noooooo … I have no idea," Libby said.

"You work with her!" I cried.

"Ok, fine, she'll be there!" Libby admitted, meeting my gaze desperately. "Sorry, not sorry, but you already said yes! You can't back out, I need you there!"

"Take Al or Scorpius, I'm not doing it!" I said.

"Come on, you'll have to face her sooner or later," Libby told me.

"Um, nope, no I really don't," I pointed out.

"She's my friend, and James' too!" Libby said. "You're bound to run into her again at some point. Just get it over with!"

"Is _this_ why you asked me and not someone else?" I asked, exasperatedly.

"It might've been part of it, but I really do want you to come with me!" Libby answered. "Please, please, please?"

"Libby–"

"PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE?!"

"FINE!" I yelled. "I'm going to regret this, but fine! I'm only doing it because James would kill me for abandoning you, otherwise," I added, seriously.

But she'd gotten what she wanted yet again. She gave me a toothy smile.

"Thank you, once again," she said.

"You little she-demon."

"One of my nicer names," she laughed.

So, somehow, I ended up wearing the fanciest dress robes I owned and accompanying a woman who was eight months pregnant to what looking like a fucking royal ball all up in here!

Sometimes life takes a weird turn and I really don't know how it happened.

"Ooh, can I pretend to be James?" I asked eagerly at some point before dinner. We were currently in what appeared to be the 'schmoozing' phase, as the Cursebreakers and bank representatives greeted investors and curators with huge fake smiles and many over-the-top compliments. Hell, even the event hall was obnoxiously decorated with precious jewels, artefacts and platinum diamonds just hanging around on show. I was lucky to even be in the same room as this shit, let alone see anything! I'd shaken the hands of so many people that I didn't care about that I was about to die of boredom.

"What? No!" Libby scoffed.

"C'mon, I wanna be a national Quidditch star for the evening!" I nudged Libby's shoulder with mine.

"I hate to break it to you, mate, but no one's going to believe that you're James."

"Hey, we don't look that different!" I insisted. "Seriously, our hair's practically the same, we've both got a little Weasley in us, I can just say I've been on holiday to France over the summer and that's why I'm now so gorgeously tan–"

"You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"

"Exactly!"

"No," Libby laughed.

"Libbbbyyyyy," I whined.

"No, you're staying Fred Weasley – yes, hi! Lovely to meet you too, I'm Liberty Fletcher–" she hastily said to the latest old codger who was shaking her hand and staring into her eyes a little too creepily to be allowed. "–yes, thank you, 34 weeks," she added on the end there, her strained smile indicating that she was tired of receiving congratulations every five seconds and people always asking when she was due.

"No, this is my good friend, Fred Weasley," she indicated to him.

She'd answered _that_ question a hundred bazillion times, too.

Several more meaningless handshakes later, someone thankfully called out for attention and requested that we all take our seats for dinner and the start of the poncy ceremony. "Thank the lord, I need to sit down," Libby moaned happily and quite honestly, free food was bound to get my attention any day, so I was content to wrap an arm around Libby's waist and walk with her towards our table.

Uuuuuntil I saw who we'd be sharing it with.

"Emma! Sarah!" Libby called happily, waving to her friends who were just taking their own seats. I froze, but Libby tugged at my arm, continuing to drag me forward with a surprising amount of force for a heavily pregnant woman. Six months, and my eyes still zeroed in on Emma immediately. She was standing alongside another woman I assumed was their work colleague, Sarah, in dress robes of a deep gold. She had tamed her brown frizziness into only slightly wild curls that swept over her shoulders. Oh my god, she was fucking hot and I was still standing there like a gormless eejit!

Her eyes widened when she noticed me, and I saw her quite clearly turn to Sarah and mouth the words, " _Oh, FUCK_ ," Then, she hastily put on a grin and accepted Libby's hug as she approached.

"Hey! Holding up while James is away, I see. _What the hell is HE doing here_?" she hissed in an undertone, jerking her head back at me.

I felt like I should be saying something back, but my mouth wasn't working. Holy fuck, have I literally forgotten how to talk now? Libby turned and shot me a look at that as if I'd actually managed to get words out. Her face screamed _for god's sake, be nice!_ Thankfully, I think Sarah noticed the awkward tension and cut in, hastily introducing herself and her husband to me.

"Hi! I'm Sarah, nice to meet you," she said quickly, holding out her hand to shake. She had wavy golden brown hair, the ends of which I noticed she twisted around her fingers as she spoke. "This is my husband, Neil."

"I was forced here against my will," Neil said in greeting, and I managed to snort with laughter.

"So tell me the truth," I said to Sarah as we all moved to take our seats. "How often have you and those girls gossiped about me?"

Sarah laughed. "Too often. It's nice to finally put a face to the Bonehead … I'm sorry, that's what she calls you sometimes."

I shook my head, sitting down between Sarah and Libby. I was struggling to remain cool calm and composed, but this wasn't the time for a bender! Shit, I was here for Libby, ok? Just concentrate on her, don't think about Emma, don't look over, don't –

Oh god, I'm looking at her.

She and Libby were bickering slightly under their breaths as they sat down, though they were forced to break it off when what looked like some mighty big boss-type stood up on the raised stage to address the crowd and formally welcome everyone to the gala. Seeing her again had left my head spinning. I'd been preparing for it all evening, but it transpired that literally nothing was going to make me ready to face her again. I hadn't failed to notice that while Sarah had brought her husband and Libby had brought me, Emma had come with no one. The actual beginning of the gala was about as boring and tedious as Libby had promised it would be, so at least there weren't any surprises there. We had to sit through about six different speeches before they started presenting anything, and I noticed that Sarah's husband was clearly nodding off on the other side of the table, while Sarah span her wine glass around with a bored expression. Libby was absently playing a game with her unborn baby, pressing her hand into her stomach and apparently feeling it kick.

Naturally, I spent my time productively … first trying not to stare, and then trying to convince myself that I didn't want to stare in the first place. I wasn't have a breakdown at this table, was I? Oh good lord, I needed a drink. I wasn't even sure if I was supposed to acknowledge her at all here, or whether it was customary for exes to always completely ignore each other if they accidentally ran into each other again. I wouldn't know. Emma was the fucking first, and we were never even together in the first place!

FOR FUCK'S SAKE, FRED, DON'T LOOK AT HER!

"Next, we have the Cursebreaker Achievement Awards. These are reserved only for those who we feel have put in that extra mile for their profession!" the far-too-enthusiastic announcer read off a cue card that was clearly on the podium he stood in front of. "These people are hard-workers, professional and have stood out to us within this last year. Those who are presented with it are rewarded with a scholarship to help cover travel costs whenever they are stationed overseas. This year's recipients are …" he paused dramatically before beginning to read out the ten or so names. Libby was silently muttering, " _Please not me, please not me, I don't want to get up_ …" and she got her wish. But another name was read out:

"… and Emma Terry! All those called, please make your way to the stage."

Terry.

Emma. Terry.

EMMA TERRY.

Oh my god.

I don't even know why something so meaningless and ridiculous as discovering a last name hit me so hard, but I sat there stunned as it completely fucked with my head. Emma tried not to look too happy as Libby and Sarah congratulated her warmly and she stood to approach the stage and collect her award. Meanwhile, I just inwardly freaked. I kept asking myself what the hell did it matter, but I stared at her walking across that stage with fire burning in my chest and _shit, shit, shit,_ I am not over her, I'm nowhere fucking NEAR over her, and I had to spend this entire evening sitting at the same table as her!

 _Emma Terry_.

Aw, DAMN IT.

"Congrats, Princess," I suddenly found myself throwing out to her as everyone applauded politely and the recipients of the award got to make their way back to their seats. Emma paused and didn't answer a moment, but I guess I've just decided it for us in that yep, we're acknowledging each other tonight!

"Shut up, Bonehead," she threw back before sitting down and avoiding my gaze.

It was sometime later when I got Libby's elbow my in the side. "Ow, what?" I asked.

"Quit staring! It's getting creepy," she said, jerking her head towards Emma.

"I'm not – oh, whatever …" I grumbled.

"Aha," Libby smirked as dinner eventually started wrapping up. At least I got free food out of this mess. "He's not even denying it anymore."

"What's the point?" I sighed. "Besides, this is your fault, YOU forced me here!"

"Fred, honey, I'm eight-months-pregnant," Libby pointed out. "Get my wand off me, and I can't make you do shit. Trust me, mate, you came because I asked you to, but you stayed because you wanted to."

Shut up, Libby.

Eventually, waiters charmed trays to float around and pick up all the dishes while simultaneously transforming this fucking elaborate hall into a full-on dancing arena, complete with hired live music and disco ball! (Ok, I was maybe joking with the disco ball, but that fucking huge rock in the corner I swear was pulsing with glittering light that made anyone who so much as walked past it stare in a trance). You know, I was just starting to think that I might be able to get through this! I didn't let Libby get further than a few feet away from me, but she was chattering happily with her friends, and I spoke good-naturedly to Sarah's husband for a bit. I avoided Emma completely, and for a while it seemed like that would basically be the entire rest of the evening. Yes, I can definitely handle that!

Noooope.

"Agents!" someone suddenly hissed at the chattering women at one point. "Get the hell out there and stop gossiping, for heaven's sake! Do you want Director Gale to come over?"

The three panicked frantically as Libby spun around and leapt about as gracefully as she could to grab onto my arm. Sarah hastily yelped for Neil as Emma complained, "Damn, I was hoping we could get away with it!"

"Should've known better," Libby agreed. "Shit, is he seriously coming this way?"

"He's talking to – no, shit, he's coming! Oh god, oh god, I need someone to talk to who's not a Cursebreaker …" Emma glanced around frantically.

"Wow, you guys are actually afraid of your boss, aren't you?" I said, amusedly.

"You would too if you had Director Gale!" Libby exclaimed. "I heard he once killed a man with a stick of uncooked spaghetti and a spatula!"

"I heard that he could turn his head 360 degrees," Sarah nodded.

"I heard that before he punched it, it was known as Horizontal Alley!" Emma added.

"Who the fuck have you guys been listening to?" I asked in bewilderment.

"Just don't you dare leave me!" Libby waved this off, her grip on my arm starting to hurt. "This is why I brought you, now do your job!"

"What about me?!" Emma said.

"Well, you should've brought someone!" Libby cried. "Blimey, did you not listen at all during the emergency drill that we ran?"

"You guys held an emergency drill?"

" _Emma!_ " both Libby and Sarah seemed appalled by this.

"We had billboards, a floor plan and everything!" Sarah said.

"I know, I know I shoulda been there, but I've been busy helpin' out at home, and I had to make sure Katie and Henry got to the station on time, and none of my brothers were free–"

"He's coming!" Libby cried and the women quickly descended into unintelligible squeaks which were apparently still words, although I couldn't for the life of me interpret them. Sarah quickly grabbed Neil (who shot me a look as bewildered as I felt – I feel ya, mate!) and claimed that we were on our own. My mind was reeling though from the sudden onslaught of information I was getting second-hand, and I kind of wanted to ask about it – _who are Katie and Henry? Do you mean Kings Cross Station? Shit, how many brothers DO you have?_ – but before I could begin to even process all this, Libby was suddenly shoving me towards Emma.

"Whoa, wait–"

"Ok, ok, I think that'll work!" she was saying while Emma nodded frantically, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm pregnant, I've got an excuse, I'll just say that I felt nauseous or whatever and had to sit down for a bit. You hang with Fred until the danger passes! You owe me, girl!"

"Excuse me?" I squawked.

"Talk to me, Hotshot!" Emma demanded in answer, while Libby suddenly disappeared into the dancing, schmoozing crowd.

Shit. Talk about blindsided. I stared at Emma who was suddenly too close and not close enough all at the same time. Her face was tinged pink either from the wine we'd drunk with dinner, or the pressure of the last few minutes of scrambling to make sure they didn't get in trouble with their terrifying boss for not mingling. I opened my mouth, but found I had absolutely nothing to say. Jesus, what do I do?!

"Uhhhh …" I said.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Emma practically roared, making me jump.

"What did I say?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter, he's coming – OH, FRED, YOU'RE HYSTERICAL!"

"Agent Terry," a huge burly man with dress robes decorated with the Cursebreaker emblem had approached us through the crowd. He'd been the man to first address everyone on stage and moved throughout the crowd, talking and mingling with everyone and sending death glares at anyone who was obviously not comfortable with such a thing. He was built like a rhino with watery red eyes and glanced at us suspiciously as he introduced himself,

"I hope you find our gala exciting and invigorating, Mr …?"

"Weasley?" I practically asked, holding out a hand.

"Weasley," Director Gale looked somewhat impressed, taking my hand and basically killing it with a handshake. "Agent Terry, I hope you are entertaining our very own resident Weasley with everything that the bank and the Cursebreaker programme has to offer."

"Oh, of course," Emma nodded at once.

"Yep! I'm all about them mummies," I added, cheerfully. Emma stomped on my foot.

"Indeed," Director Gale threw us a look. He clearly didn't decide that Emma was doing a good enough job however, since he indicated to the live band up on stage and said, "Isn't the music grand tonight? Agent Terry, why don't you show Mr Weasley our excellent dance floor? Maybe while you move, you can regale him with tales of our on-going dig site in Rome?"

"I'm afraid that – oh, ok!" Emma was forced to change tack hastily as Director Gale (helpfully, I'm sure) laid a firm hand on both our shoulders and began steering us towards the dance floor. We literally had no choice but to awkwardly take up each other's personal space and twirl around a bit while Director Gale watched like a hawk.

"… that dude's got like _no_ chill," I pointed out.

"That's my boss," Emma said dryly. Then, she glanced up at me and said, "Look, I'm so sorry. I had no idea that this would end up happenin'."

"Eh, it's fine," I shrugged. "I consider it a night wasted unless I can get a pretty girl to dance with me."

"Fred …" her voice warned.

"What?" I asked, irritably. "I didn't ask to be forced to dance with you! Which reminds me, is your boss still watching?"

"Nah, I think he's moved on now," Emma answered, trying to peer up over and around my shoulder. I snorted and glanced over instead when it became clear that she wasn't tall enough. I'd forgotten how ridiculously short she was compared to me, even with the heels she was currently wearing. With the thankful assurance that yes, Director Gale had moved onto another unsuspecting Cursebreaker and their guest, we could awkwardly let go of each other. However, with the dance floor so packed, we were forced to stay hovering uncomfortably in each other's space. Lord knows I was trying to keep my cool, so I attempted to spot Libby in the crowd and ensure that I wasn't shirking my duties in protecting her.

"Fred," Emma sighed then. "Why did you come tonight? You know I work with Libby, you knew I was going to be here–"

"Libby asked me too! And the girl is so pregnant that there was no way I could tell her no!" I said, hotly.

"Yeah, and I'll be having words with her and all–"

"Oh, let's not blame Libby just because we're apparently the ones with no fucking chill," I rolled my eyes. "I haven't seen you in months. Can't we just … call it? I'll pretend nothing happened if you can too."

 _Please, Emma._

"Sure," she shrugged. "Guess I can be awkwardly polite if you can. I, uh … what've you been up to lately?"

I clearly didn't think this one through. Not only had we been forced into dancing, but I had now somehow landed myself in the position of having to make small talk! Jesus, this was exhausting. Thankfully, another couple swung into our path with no warning at that point, and it gave us the excuse we needed to back away and avoid getting trampled by the crowd. It was one less tension-filled thing to have think about at least. We quickly ducked out of the way of the dancers and we paused together, hovering somewhere on the edge of the dance floor. I figured I had to eventually answer with something, so I said,

"Erm, not much? Work. Partying. I had to stand in court–" I cut myself off rather hastily when I realised that that was still totally too raw to talk about, not to mention would completely give away my mysterious career!

" _Court_?" Emma latched on immediately with keen hunger in her eyes. "Seriously, what the HELL is your job?"

"Honey, please."

"WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?" Emma finally seemed to lose it as she cried out in agitation.

I managed a laugh. "Because I get reactions like that!"

"Oh my god, just tell me! TELL ME."

I scoffed, " _Please_."

Emma let out a groan of annoyance. "You're gonna kill me one of these days."

"That's what I live for."

"But really, what did you mean by court? Like a court trial? What did you do, finally crack and murder Mrs Ramsey?"

"While the idea has appeal, I wasn't on the defendant's side," I snorted. "Let that be your first clue."

"That narrows it down," Emma's eyes narrowed. "You can't be an Auror, I would've heard about that already."

"Hey! I could be an Auror!" I protested.

"Aha, so you confirm you're not," Emma said, gleefully. She stepped in closer and glared at me with a determined look. "There's a prosecutor, a lawyer, wait no … I can't see you being a judge. Maybe you're a security guard?" She paused as if waiting for some kind of recognition in my face to give it away. I stared straight on back at her with an amused look, knowing there was no way she was going to be able to guess. When you're a part of a court trial, there were just too many options. I could've been a witness, jury member or Healer Examiner for all she knew. Besides, no one ever figures _bounty hunter_.

"You can guess all you like, I'm not giving anything away."

"Why not?" Emma huffed.

"Cause," I smirked. "Annoying you is fun."

I had glanced up at that, but turns out that was a big mistake. I accidentally caught her eye and suddenly, we were kissing.

 _Kissing_.

Fuck, I KNOW, but I couldn't even tell you who moved first. I think we both just simultaneously leaned in until we desperately met each other halfway. I can't even tell you what crossed my mind! I'd just glanced over without thinking and saw the way she was looking at me and BAM. It fucking happened. We were surrounded by hundreds of other people but I didn't care in the slightest as I tightened an arm around her waist, like I'd been thinking about ever since we'd been forced together. Fingers curled into her hair as I breathed her in and literally, this was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done. She clutched at my dress robes and there we stayed for the next twenty seconds … until roughly and suddenly shoving each other back.

Emma and I stared at each other.

"Ummm …" she warbled.

"Yeah."

"I think we should–"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna–"

And we both turned around hastily and darted off through the crowd.

"That's it!" I called to Libby, once I caught up with her on the opposite side of the hall. She had apparently been hiding near the bathrooms, sat down at the closest table with some more of her co-workers. She excused herself hastily and moved around in her chair to face me storming towards her. "I knew this was a bad idea, I'm going home!"

"But we've got another couple hours yet! Please, I need you!" Libby insisted.

"So far, the only person who's _needed_ me is Emma," I rolled my eyes. "Lib, my love for you ain't worth this."

"So what you had to talk to her for a bit?" Libby waved this off. "C'mon, it was probably good for you–"

"Libby, I kissed her."

She looked up at me with wide eyes. Then, she held out her hand, silently asking me to haul her to her feet.

"I'm apparently so excited that I need to pee again," she sighed.

"You're nuts."

" _You kissed her_?" Libby retorted, the two of us now aiming for the line for the woman's bathroom. "Jesus, you guys just can't be tamed!"

"I don't know what happened," I moaned. "But I think this proves that I shouldn't bloody well be here!"

"You still like her, don't you?"

"Don't talk to me about feelings, Lib," I grumbled. "I'm only here, standing in the fucking woman's bathroom line, 'cause of what I feel for you."

Libby laughed out loud. "Oh, Fred," she hugged my arm and rested her head on my shoulder. "I'm glad that we can still have our love. And look, I know that I can't convince you to do anything, but I CAN and WILL tell you that you are a total dipshit."

"Thanks for that."

"No really," she said. "Fred, take it from me. I have known Emma a long time and she is incredible. She is beautiful, caring and for some bloody reason, is totally into you. You are a fucking IDIOT if you continue to do nothing. Just sayin'."

I snorted, letting her squeeze my arm before peeling her off me.

"Go to the bathroom already before you pee on the floor," I said.

"Oh, and make her cry again, and I WILL slap you," she threatened.

"You're literally eight months pregnant–"

"JUST TRY ME, FRED."

"Ok, ok!" I said hastily, before chivvying her off.

Thankfully, the glare she sent me before turning around was full of fondness.

* * *

I ended up spending the rest of that gala basically hiding behind a chocolate fountain.

I managed to avoid her from then on for the rest of the night, though honestly, it's what we should've done from the start! Poking a speared strawberry on a stick into the chocolate, I'd absolutely known that this was a bad idea, but can you say no to Baby Brain? _Should've picked fiery death over this_ , I'd sighed, chewing on the strawberry. I'd stupidly almost thought that I was over her before this insanity. Like yeah, I could kiss other women and not still pretend it was her! I could totally still eat at my kitchen table without wild punches and rough sex flooding my head! HONESTLY. I don't even know what had possessed me in that moment of standing in front of her, but she'd gone for me the exact same time I'd gone for her, damn it! I couldn't be blamed completely here, right?

So after that unmitigated disaster of a night (I'M NOT BEING DRAMATIC, SHUT UP), I managed to remain Emma-free for about another month or so. We think Libby picked up something at that gala because the next day, she woke up with a horrible flu, which had caused a minor ( _read: major_ ) scare and James to come careening back from New Zealand a few days early because the Healer's thought she was going to go into early labour. She'd been hospitalised, but of course she'd been totally fine in the end. I'd gone and visited her at the hospital, greeting a wind-swept James with a thump on the back and teasing him for freaking out so much. Libby had caught my eye over James' shoulder and I'd shot her a look that had quite plainly said, "DON'T YOU SAY A FUCKING WORD ABOUT THAT GALA,"

I did NOT need James knowing about this.

But the month went on and everything was like it usually was. I worked and was dragged on a case chasing some idiot all the way to the southern coast at one point. James slowly spiralled as the countdown to his baby's due date eventually hit. It felt like the entire Weasley family was simply frozen waiting to hear the news that –

"LIBBY'S GONE INTO LABOUR!" Roxanne had screamed at me, crashing my flat about seven that evening of the 13th of October, in the year of our Lord, 2030.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I'd asked, sticking my head around from the kitchen.

"Shut up, Mum just told me!" Roxanne had thrown back.

"So it's actual labour this time?" I'd asked.

"I think so, Auntie Ginny told Mum and it seems to be legit happening! Oh my god, can you believe it?! James it going to be a daddy!"

 _James is going to be a daddy_.

LE FUCK.

Jesus, it was weird. Like, I'd always known that this was coming at some point, but I don't think I'd ever really properly processed what it was going to mean. My best friend was having a baby! Not only that, but FUCKING JAMES was having a baby! I was surprised to find, though, that I wasn't lamenting the loss of crazy nights on the town together or laser-tag fights. No, instead I found that I was literally just terrified for him! Shit, James had his own family now. He was going to be a father, and he was going to have to look after some squalling, shitting and crying thing for the rest of his given life!

But I had to believe he could do it, otherwise I knew he would never believe it himself.

Quite honestly, my knowledge of babies and labour and shit were quite limited. I literally just assumed that in a couple hours that baby would be popping out and all would be fine with the world! Nope. I got almost constant updates (whether I wanted them or not, and usually from my sister) up until about two in the morning, then just the odd note saying that James and Libby must have finally unplugged their phone and locked the owl up. In fact, I started work the next day still with absolutely no idea at all whether this baby was here or not.

Then, round early evening, I got the owl:

 _Fred –  
_ _I HAVE A DAUGHTER, YO!  
_ _Come see her in about an hour, we're at the hospital.  
_ _I'm freaking outtttt.  
_ – _James 'I'm a father now' Potter_

Work could wait.

When I finally arrived and located their room down the maternity ward on the Ground Floor, it was kind of surreal. Libby was in a recovery ward with a few other new families and she was sat up in her bed, looking like she'd been dragged through hell backwards by her hair (and also that she could cry any second), but she was smiling at the tiny baby in her arms. James sat next to her, my best friend looking up and grinning when he noticed me arrive. "Fred!" he called. "C'mon, get over here and meet her!"

"So she's a girl, then?" I asked, slowly walking over and sitting on the end of Libby's bed. The baby was currently sleeping, snuggled up in a blanket as Libby held her almost reverently in her arms. I noticed a fuzz of black hair over the baby's weirdly shaped head and a fist swaying vaguely like a tiny drunken sailor. Shit. This was real. Shit, that was an actual baby! My first instinct was to say, _gross_ , but the look on James' face held it back.

"Yeah, a girl," James was still beaming. "Oh my god, getting her here was a nightmare, but we eventually did it."

"Excuse me, _we_?" Libby put in there.

"You, _you_ eventually did it," James added, hastily.

"I did, didn't I," Libby smiled proudly, glancing back down at her daughter.

I did as well, 'cause like, that look in her eyes was so compelling I felt like I had to. It was weird seeing them like this. This tiny creature had them so entranced and I wanted to know why!

"… so you really have a kid now, huh?" I asked. "Oh, what's her name?" I added, since I realised I hadn't asked yet.

"Clara," Libby answered fondly.

My immediate thought went to the wizarding pop singer with the name, which naturally James was aghast to realise. Apparently he had suggested 'Clara' and so far, I had learned that new parenthood didn't mix well with teasing! Libby eventually cut in before James had an aneurysm by asking me,

"Do you want to hold her or not?"

"You'd let me?" I felt my nose crinkle. I couldn't even remember ever holding a baby before!

"Well," Libby said. "I'm debating that now … but I suppose I can't judge until you've actually given it a go."

"Go on, mate," James punched my shoulder. "You'll love her, I swear! And she's barely awake, you can't really do that much damage."

"Plus, if you do, I'll kill you," Libby added, pleasantly.

I was all prepared to argue that no, I really didn't need to cuddle the baby, but James had already leapt to his feet and grabbed me, shoving me into his spot on the bed next to Libby. Christ. Guess I'm doing this, then. Before I could change my mind, I held out my arms and Libby deposited the teeny person in them. Blimey. She really was small! Baby Clara moved a little, that fist of hers waving at me before grabbing my sleeve.

Wow.

"… she's a tough one, ain't she?" I glanced up at James and Libby.

"Oh, yeah," James grinned from where he stood next to the bed. "I swear, that girl's getting on a broom as soon as she can sit upright by herself!"

"But what if she doesn't like Quidditch?" Libby asked, innocently.

I almost snorted at that monstrosity of a statement. This girl was just the latest in a line of famous players, there was no way that she wasn't going to be brought up with Quidditch in her blood. And finally, I think that's when it hit me that James really had actually produced this tiny thing. This little girl was HIS. It wasn't just another dorky pet of his, like the time he tried adopting a Pygmy Puff when he was 13 (he was trying to impress some girl that he liked, I forget which one) or a shrivelled up plant on his windowsill that he always forgot to water, this was an actual human being! She was depending entirely on him and Libby not fucking up and ruining her life and it was comical and brilliant all at the same time. Her weight, while faintly terrifying, also felt so comfortable in my arms. Her ridiculous little face was screwed up in her sleep and for the first time ever, the heart burn didn't actually feel so bad.

"Ok, I'll admit it," I said. "I'm in love."

James and Libby both laughed. "We coulda told you that," Libby mentioned, leaning over and lightly stroking Clara's pudgy cheek.

"Har, har," I rolled my eyes before glancing back down at the little girl. "Your mum thinks she's funny. But you're on my side, aren't you, baby Clara?"

She snuffled in response. Oh yeah, she loves me.

James snorted and I glanced up at him. "What?"

"It's so weird seeing you with a kid," he pointed out.

"It's so weird seeing YOU with a kid," I countered.

It looked like James was about to concede to this very valid point, but that was when there was another voice that joined us in the hospital room. She called out from the door to the ward,

"Libby? James? Is she there, can I see 'er?"

Oh, would you look at that, it burns again.

Emma looked excited and eager and bounded in the moment James and Libby happily waved her over. I'm starting to think that they were beginning to meddle here. Well, fuck them! When she first glanced at me, I think we both exchanged mutual 'oh god' looks of acknowledgement, like ' _Hi, yes, how are you? Oh, I'm somewhere between fuck you and I'd fuck you. Good, good …_ ' I tried not to care too much. She was here to see the baby. So was I. I hadn't seen her since the debacle at the Cursebreaker gala so as much as I was unwilling to admit it, Libby was kind of right in her prediction … I was going to start running into her eventually. Therefore, I better suck it up and start getting over her quicker.

(Yo, heart, you can seriously stop fucking BURNING now).

Emma had comically hesitated upon seeing me, but I think the curiosity won over. She cautiously approached, congratulating the two and hugging both James and Libby. "My dear Emma, I'd like you to meet our daughter!" James told her cheerfully, an arm squeezed around her shoulders. "Her name is Clara Rose and she was born in a hallway!"

"What, seriously?" Emma asked.

"You didn't tell me that!" I said, looking away from Clara up at my best friend. "What, the hospital not cool enough for ya?"

"Trust me, we didn't exactly get a choice," Libby grumbled next to me. She was still stroking Clara's cheek softly. "Blame Rosie and her dodgy fireplace. If I'd had my way, we would have been right here in the hospital!"

"Either way, she turned out fine," James was quick to reassure. "Rose ended up delivering her."

"Blimey," I snorted. "Didn't she hate training in the maternity ward?"

"Still did it, though," James said. "That's sort of why her middle name's Rose. Hey, Emma! You wanna hold her?" he suddenly tacked on the end there.

"Oh, I–" Emma began, but that was when James suddenly tugged on my shoulder, dragging me and Clara up from the hospital bed and apparently not giving Emma a choice in the matter. Now I had to hand over this baby to a woman I was trying to actively avoid acknowledging. Fucking brilliant. James sat back down next to Libby, both of them obviously failing to hide their sniggers. I glanced at Emma, down at sleeping Clara, then back up.

"So, uh …"

"I guess I'll just slide in …?" Emma eyed me uncertainly, but there was no getting around it. We were going to have to touch in order for this to work. It took many uncomfortable comments and sarcastic apologies as Emma slid her arms between Clara and myself and I moved out from under her so that Emma could eventually hold the baby, but I'll admit it was probably worth it to see the look on her face. After mouthing, ' _I HATE YOU,_ ' at James and Libby, Emma then stared down at baby Clara.

"Oh my god!" she grinned with an eye-shining smile. "She is literally the cutest thing ever."

"She's so small," I commented. I totally forgot that Emma was the one holding her as I leaned in closer, wiggling a finger absently over Clara. She didn't really pay much attention, seeing as she was asleep and all, but her first bumped mine and I liked to think of it as our first high-five.

"I can't believe you made this … this, tiny person!" Emma told her friend.

"I can't believe it either," Libby admitted. Her voice sounded wary and I glanced up to notice that yeah, she definitely still looked like hell. Not only was she physically haggard, sweaty and tired, but I was noticing now that both her and James had that underlying look of shock in their eyes. It was the new-parent look of _holy shit, we have a child now and have to like, feed it and ensure it doesn't die and stuff!_ I had to hand it to them … they'd been troopers ever since they'd found out about this little baby. They could've taken the easy route out, but here they were! My best friend was a father! JAMES POTTER, A FATHER.

The world really has gone mad.

I was proud of them though, no matter how crazy this entire situation was. I glanced back to Clara and accidentally remembered who was holding her. Emma was still grinning at Clara with pure adoration and I stood there astonished for a second at the sight of her standing next to me, holding her best friend's baby. I was jealous of her ease, of how 100% comfortable she seemed whereas I'd also felt like I was holding a bag of ticking bombs the entire time she was in my arms.

But she was also fucking beautiful holding that baby … GAHHHH.

Emma glanced up and seemed to catch the look on my face, because she quickly looked away and claimed, "WEEEELP, I'm guessing you want your daughter back, right?"

Libby laughed. "Sure, bring her over."

I tried to sneak out while Emma carefully handed Clara back to Libby, but James (the bastard) caught me. Leaving the women back inside the hospital ward, James yelled, "MATE! Where d'you think you're going?" apparently running after me. I sighed, turning back around in the maternity ward corridor.

"Gotta head out," I told him as James just shook his head and moved closer. "Congrats and all that shit, but–"

"Shut up," James snorted.

"Did you have to invite her to visit the same time as me?" I whined. " _Really_?"

"Who says I did?" James said.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, all right," James just shrugged unapologetically. "There's no excuses really, Libby told me to mess with you. Apparently, we're evil. Hopefully, Clara doesn't catch it! Seriously, it hasn't been so bad seeing her again, right?"

"Not as bad as the first time," I huffed.

"Oh, you mean when you kissed her?"

"That bitch," I mock gasped. "Libby told you, didn't she?"

"Every sordid detail!" James grinned. "C'mon, Libby's my Hellcat for a reason. Of course we're gonna gossip about you guys."

"Ugh, whatever. Look, seriously though mate … congratulations for today."

James dropped the teasing. He just grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets and said. "Yeah, thanks."

I scuffed my foot. "What's it like?"

"Honestly? Terrifying," James admitted. "I can't really describe it. Most of the time I feel like I can't even breathe. We're gonna be taking her home as soon as the midwife gets the birth certificate signed off and I don't really know what we're gonna do when we get there."

"Ah, you'll figure it out," I shrugged. "You're a dad now, don't dad's just pick this up as they go along?"

James shook his head. "If that's true, then it sure hasn't happened to me yet. Libby seems to already have it down."

"I still can't believe you really had a baby with that girl," I sniggered.

"With the amount of unprotected sex we had on my birthday, I certainly can," James answered.

"Guess that won't happen much anymore, though," I pointed out.

"Yeah," James glanced over his shoulder back towards Libby's ward. "but I love her. Sex will come back. Well, at least I hope it will."

"Just good luck taking care of the Tiny Human!"

"Don't act like you're telling me goodbye!" James accused then, pointing a finger at me. "I still expect raging laser tag tournaments with Clara refereeing! You're my best friend, and that doesn't change just because I have a baby now."

I rolled my eyes as James swung forward and hugged me tightly.

I mean, I let him.

Dude _does_ have a baby now, after all.

* * *

A/N: We did it, guys. We made it to the end of the WJML storyline. From here on in, we are in uncharted territory! The next major thing to happen is, of course, ROSE AND SCORPIUS' WEDDING! Apparently, it's taken me 8 fucking years to get them to this point and I've been crying a lot over it, haha. Also, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would be writing it from Fred's POV, of all people, lol.

ALSO, MEDDELLING JABBY

Apparently my Idiot Fred Scale needs adjusting, I promise I'm working on that, haha. I love you all so so much! Seriously, your reviews mean the world to me, knowing that y'all are still reading this and still enjoying it, it makes my lil heart soar. Please keep them coming! xoxox

Until next time -

\- Moon. :D


	11. That one time I went to Vegas

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 11: That one time I went to Vegas.

I watched James and Libby slowly descend into madness over the first month of Clara's life.

It was quite something! I don't pretend to know a thing about babies of course, so quite honestly I'd had no idea what to expect, only it wasn't agreeing to come and see them one evening after work to find both new parents in varying stages of catatonia with their days old baby happily wiggling on the floor between them. Their flat had always been one of the more spacious I've seen for London (though that was probably due to the fact that Libby actually _cleaned_. I swear, I'd had to hold my breath every time I'd gone over to James' old flat, to the point where I refused to go anymore!). But it had suddenly started feeling rather tiny and it appeared that the place was currently in the process of being newly decorated with shit and vomit stains. I mean, unless James is suddenly getting into the DIY interior design, but this is the same bloke who literally named his carpet mould 'Bobby' (DUDE), so you know.

"For such a little thing, you wouldn't imagine the amount of poo that could come out of her!" Libby told me when Clara was about two weeks old. She dropped down onto the worn and groaning sofa next to me, where the baby was currently snuggled against my chest.

LOOK, I KNOW, but this thing is fuckin' cute, ok?

I wrinkled my nose. "Gee, thanks for that image."

"You're welcome," Libby smiled, leaning her head warily against the back of the sofa as she glanced over. "Jesus, Fred, I can't get over how comfortable you look with her! It's frightening me."

"It's frightening ME," I mentioned. Hell, I even knew how to fucking do this now! One hand on bum, one hand on head, DON'T KILL IT, it actually wasn't as hard as I'd originally thought. I had honestly figured that when this baby came I would barely have anything to do with it, but Clara Potter-Fletcher was sloooowly becoming one of my new favourite people, and that said a lot! I glanced down at her downy and misshapen head, currently nestled under my chin as she sucked her fingers. Sure, she smelled a lot and cried a lot, but who didn't on a good day? She was tiny, but so was Emma ( _fuck, don't go there_ ). She was just yet another person trying to survive in this insane world, so I mean, you gotta give props to anyone who's still here!

Plus, she was like, cute and all.

"I never imagined I'd be here," I admitted to Libby, leaning back into the sofa more so that Clara's head could rest against me and I could rub her back. "Like literally, I thought the moment you guys had this baby I'd probably never see you again!"

Libby snorted. "Oh, honey. Like you could ever get rid of us."

"True. But you know what I mean."

"So what, you didn't think you'd be able to keep up with the baby way of life?" she grinned.

"I just didn't think I'd have any inclination to want to get to know this thing," I mentioned, glancing down once more to where she was apparently now trying to eat my t-shirt. "But look at me, I'm here!"

"Oh, Fred. I'm so proud of you."

"Hey, I'm not the one who has to take care of her," I said. "Jesus fucking Christ, I dunno how you guys are doing it!"

"I would tell you if I could, but I honestly have no idea," Libby said, rubbing her eyes as she watched her daughter with equal parts fondness and misery. "I love her so much, Fred. SO MUCH. But every time she cries I want to punch something. And James has gone and convinced himself that she hates him because she will only go to sleep if I put her down. Actually, now I spend a lot of my time worrying about him, because he feels like he can't do anything useful, and then of course I feel guilty because shouldn't I be worrying about her more?" she nodded at her daughter.

"Well shit, I don't bloody know, do I?" I scoffed.

"This is why we're besties, Fred."

"Hey, I'm just the uncle!" I said. "You know, sort of. Look, she's still alive, and you guys are both still more or less sane, so I call that a success so far! I mean, you're allowed to worry about more than one thing, right?"

"I know," Libby sighed. "I KNOW, I just …"

"Hey, you want her back?" I asked. "I mean, she's currently trying to eat me sooo …"

I managed to make her laugh. "Yeah, it's about time that she got hungry. You better not mind boob time," she added as we both moved, sitting up so that I could hand Clara back over to her.

"Libby, literally when have I EVER been opposed to boob time?"

Hey look, she laughed again! See, I knew the girl was still in there somewhere. I knew that this was of course mightily different to what usual Boob Time might look like, and at any other point in my life I probably would have been mightily uncomfortable with even being in the same room while Libby breastfed her daughter. But it was goddamn _Libby._ LIBBY. She felt like even more of a sister to me than Roxanne did! If I could get to the point where I could literally cuddle a baby without spewing, then I could probably handle this shit. _Just don't look and don't think about other boobs in the_ _meantime_ ,I'd be fucking gold.

Once Libby had Clara settled, she actually looked at me and said, "You know, for all your jokes and swearing aside, I have a feeling that you literally aren't that bad with kids."

"Ok, piss the fuck off," I said.

She sniggered, before glancing down and coaxing Clara to latch on. Oh, Jesus. Ok, maybe I couldn't handle it quite as well as I thought I could. Definitely look away and don't think about the fact that you actually know what 'latch on' means. "You are so gentle with her it's not even funny," she mentioned.

"Yeah, but it's a mighty big difference between holding someone else's kid and holding your own," I hastily pointed out.

"Don't worry," Libby rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying you should consider having your own, blimey."

I snorted at that. "I mean, no offence to Clara, but it is SERIOUSLY not my thing."

"Fair enough," Libby answered. "The world would go down in flames if you ever became a father!"

"You know, my first instinct was to protest that," I said. "but yeeeeah. Please, let's never think about it."

"Of course!" Libby was watching Clara feed, but the smile on her face I knew was in amusement at me. "I mean, hell, you're still in the throes of a mental breakdown over liking a girl for the first time, aren't ya? We're at a completely different stage."

"Bloody hell, Lib."

"Well, aren't you?"

"I'm fine!" I grumbled, folding my arms across my chest.

"Like hell," she laughed. Clara snuffled and cried against her then, interrupting for a few moments while Libby sighed and attempted to get her settled again. Once she was stroking her face gently, she added, "So you're telling me that you're over her then?"

"Completely."

"I hope that's true," Libby said. "Because we've got the wedding coming up, and I get the feeling there's going to be enough drama there as it is!"

Blimey, I hadn't forgotten. I hadn't known it at the time, but turns out that my life ever since I had stopped seeing Emma had basically been counting down to this one week in November. It was a usual, average week, with your usual average shitty weather and no major birthdays or holidays happening, but waking up on Saturday the 16th was going to be the start of something I just KNEW would be dramatic and insane:

The up and coming nuptials of Rose and Scorpius'!

Naturally, they'd been planning this wedding ever since they got engaged last New Year's Eve, like a million moons ago, and in the lead up to now with about two weeks to go, they'd been slowly going more and more nuts. "Flowers! What? Suggest!" she would yell out, apparently unable to handle anything longer than a one-word sentence these days. Scorpius would barely open his mouth before Rose would add, " _Mention roses and I will castrate you!_ " He would argue back that he knows jack shit about flowers and just wants to know whether their cake can be decorated like a Quidditch pitch, and the next thing anyone knows, they're snogging.

Rose and Scorpius are a fucking weird relationship.

No, seriously! We literally all met Scorpius as kids back at Hogwarts and needless to say, him and Rose clashed on basically any kind of level you could find. They spent the better part of five years hating each other's guts, until apparently they realised that they could resolve all that screaming by snogging instead. I don't bloody know. Point is, no one was even phased by their ridiculous arguments anymore. There was a point a year or two ago when they quite spectacularly broke up, but they were back together only a couple of months later, so none of us really took it that seriously. Prone to drama, theatrics and making things complicated, Rose and Scorpius was that one couple I looked at and then reminded myself that yeah, I like being fucking single!

"Good lord, it's going to be a shit show, isn't it?" I said.

"If I know anything about Rose and Scorpius," Libby said as she was apparently moving Clara over to her other breast – whoops, fuck, don't look – "And considering that I've known them both for over 10 years now, I certainly do, then they will get into some argument about halfway down the aisle, the hotel will explode and we'll all go home drunk."

"Those your official predictions?"

"Feel free to take me up on that," she sniggered.

"Thing is, I don't even doubt you anymore," I rolled my eyes. "I don't know what it is with my family!"

"What, the fact that you are all ridiculously prone to drama?"

"It's gotta be a Weasley curse or something," I scoffed, folding my arms. "We can't have anything go right without someone falling out with someone else, a secret coming out or a crazy ex turning up!"

"Well, luckily Rose and Scorpius don't really have many exes to worry about, so I think we're fine there," Libby shook her head. "I mean, there's Sophie, but we all love Sophie!"

"Who's that again, the blonde one?"

"Yeah, you are NOT allowed anywhere near her," Libby shot me a look. "Or anyone else at this wedding for that matter!"

"Hey! I learnt my lesson with Emma, ok?" I said. "Don't sleep with friends of friends! I won't be doing that shit again."

Libby laughed with me, but she soon broke off in a frustrated sort of sigh. "What?" I asked.

"I dunno," she said, shifting Clara slightly. "I mean, it's easy to laugh with ya and say yeah, it was mighty stupid of you to sleep with Emma, but I watched you fall hard for that girl. Say what you want, but you cared a lot about her, and the wacko girl even liked you too. You could've fucked up a lot worse. So don't … I dunno, maybe just don't completely write it off, yeah?"

"Libby!" I said. "You're starting to sound like James … do I dare say that _you ship it_?"

She snorted just as Clara apparently started nodding off over her breast. "Oh, no, no, you can't go to sleep yet!" she got distracted by her daughter, lifting her up to her shoulder gently. "Fred, could you hand me that rag behind you?" she asked quickly, and I handed over the stained and rather gross scrap of material as Libby flung it over her shoulder and continued to coo, "C'mon, why couldn't you have inherited your father's energy, hmm? I swear that boy is constantly on a high …"

Speaking of James, he'd arrived back home from training not long after that, whooshing into through the fireplace. "Liiiiiibby, look, another training and I'm still not dead! I'm getting better at this," he warbled at her as he dumped his training bag on the floor, looking decidedly worse for wear. He had grass in his hair and bruises covering his chin, but he didn't seem to care as he leaned down and kissed her. "Annnnd how's my baby girl, huh?" he added, lifting the dozing Clara into his arms. "Oh, I know, I know, you just wanna sleep, it's fiiiiiine, but I haven't seen you all day!"

"… is he like this every time he comes home?" I asked in amazement.

Libby laughed as she moved the rag and re-adjusted her shirt again, not taking her eyes off where James was now nuzzling his daughter's head and gently swinging her around close to his chest.

"Every single day," she answered.

* * *

Ok, let's forget the fucking baby for a moment now, because WE HAD SOME PARTYING TO DO.

What, you didn't forget the stag night, did ya?

"Welcome to Booze City!" Al answered his front door with a flourish exactly one week before Rose and Scorpius' wedding. He already had a Firewhiskey in hand and a glazed expression. "Hand over the good stuff and no one gets hurt!"

"It's a stag party, mate, not a hold-up," I snorted, shoving the bottle of Buffscoff Blast into my cousin's chest.

"Whoa, hey, this is actually the good stuff!" Al exclaimed, holding the bottle of pure liquor up to peer at it with scrutiny.

"Only the best for sending Scorpius off in style," I answered. "Now let me in so we can start drinking it!"

"Oh, trust me mate, we started drinking this morning," Al mentioned, stepping aside so that he could let me into his home.

The house that Al and Bea owned actually used to belong to Ron and Hermione Weasley. My aunt and uncle had apparently been trying to sell it for months on end with little to no luck, mainly because the place was a disaster waiting to happen (I'm still betting on the roof caving in at some point). But maybe they were drunk off love hormones or some shit, because Al and Bea ended up buying the place off them cheap as newlyweds and had managed to make it somewhat homey and comfy and make it look like this wasn't the house where Rose and Hugo grew up learning how to wipe their arses on the carpet and accidentally blowing up stuff when they got mad. Actually, there was still a hole in the wall above the fireplace that was conveniently blocked from sight by a large picture of Al and Bea on their wedding day (apparently, Rose had been a rather emotional child!). Either way, pre-drinks was well under way that Saturday night, Scorpius greeting me enthusiastically and far too loudly to be considered normal, but I let it slide.

"Fred!" he yelled, stumbling over to throw an arm around my shoulders. "Did you know that in a – … wait, week? Yes, a week! – we will be cousins!"

"Jesus, I have to be related to a Malfoy," I snorted. "Welcome to the family, mate."

"You're part Weasley now!" Al added, having followed us from answering the door.

"Something about that's just not ok …" I shook my head and Scorpius shoved me lightly.

"Ahhh, what the hell do YOU know?" Scorpius accused with a grin. "Stay single! Less drama! Or maybe just go out with anyone who isn't Rose. That might work, too."

"Tried that," I commented lightly. "Didn't work either. Now hand me that 'blast and I'll mix up some drinks that'll make you forget you're even getting married!"

Al said he would help, so I let my younger cousin join as we manoeuvred our way through his crowded lounge into the kitchen. Naturally for a Weasley wedding, the house was going to be full of people. I yelled out to James, noticing him arrive with dark tired eyes and a silly grin. He waved before moving to say hi to Scorpius. We passed Teddy on our way, drinking a Firewhiskey with far too much sophisticated grace for a stag party, talking to Hugo. Ah, Hugo! With any luck, I could get the kid dancing on a table again! (No regrets). In the kitchen, Scorpius' old mates from school, Trevor and Toby, were laughing and drinking with two of Scorpius' friends from work, who were apparently called Ben and Alex.

"Hey Al! And Fred too, I suppose, get over here!" Trevor yelled at us, apparently still laughing at something hilarious that Alex had just said. "We've got a bet going if you want in on it!"

"I think it's about time we swear off the gambling," Al pointed out.

"Ah, where's your sense of adventure!" I shoved him in the shoulder.

"With my last twenty Galleons I lost when I bet that Rose and Scorpius wouldn't get back together until Christmas," Al pointed out with a grumble.

"Only one could win it!" Trevor declared, proudly.

"I still say you rigged it somehow," Toby put in.

"ANYWAY!" Trevor let this just bounce off him, like most comments seemed to. "We've got a bet going on how long it takes Scorpius to freak out."

"What, about getting married?"

"I told him we shouldn't be tempting fate like this!" Ben pointed out. "Oh wait, nice to meet you–"

"Yeah, you guys too!" I said, greeting them both as Alex introduced himself as well. They seemed like cool enough blokes, leaning against the kitchen table together opposite Trevor, who sitting on the counter top, and Toby, pulling a margarita mixer out of the cupboards when he noticed the bottle of 'blast in my hands. "So you two know Scorpius well, then?"

Ben and Alex exchanged such dramatic looks that it was almost comical.

"Oh, you would not BELIEVE the stories we have had to endure over the years!" Alex cried.

"Literally every day, it was something new."

"Merlin, we thought we were fucking goners the day he told us he split up with her!" Alex pointed out. "Ben, remember? We missed the quarterly because he wouldn't stop crying and Sophie was sent to find us! Bless her lil heart."

"Like I've already said," Ben was rolling his eyes. "Scorpius is already a delicate being. I refuse to bet on when he fucks up!"

"Aw, come on, you know that you would win it easily!" Toby accused.

"As best man, I feel like I have to cut in here," Al pointed out hastily. "that since it's my job to ensure that absolutely nothing screws up this wedding, Toby: _shut the hell up_."

"Eh, I say he freaks out the day of," I shrugged.

"FRED!"

"What? All I'm saying is I bet he freaks!" I said. "Who the hell wouldn't? He's still going to marry her, of fucking course. You guys agree with me, right?" I added to Ben and Alex.

"I'm not betting–"

"I agree!"

"ALEX. DUDE," Ben said, exasperatedly.

"C'mon," Alex sniggered. "You know Scorpius as well as the rest of us. The boy's gonna freak eventually, but he'll still get that sweet arse of his down the aisle."

"Fine," Ben sighed. "I bet he freaks out."

"I'm in on that!" Trevor called from the counter.

"Lord help me," Al shook his head.

"I'll take you up on it!" Tobby grinned as I handed over the 'blast. "Fred, what d'you say?"

I couldn't say I really knew Scorpius that well enough to make a firm decision, but from what I knew about him, I figured I'd stay with my original bet that yeah, the bloke would probably freak out at some point. Scorpius really was a funny dude sometimes, but I could actually see him as being a part of our family, and I think that said something. I don't even know when it was I realised that I actually liked the bloke now, rather than hated him! All those years ago at school the rules had unclearly stated that you had to hate him on principle, though of course for Rose, those lines had gotten significantly blurred until they ignored them altogether. Now eventually, over the years, he'd just become another cousin to me and I guess I was glad for it!

Toby starting mixing drinks then, and Al and I moved to the counter to find something else to chase with the 'blast. You seriously couldn't drink that stuff straight. Well, you could, but I'm fairly certain that your liver would shrivel up and die! Trust me, I learnt the hard way as a teenager.

"Now we're talkin'! Let's get the party goin', Al!" I grinned when he found some leftover fizzy lemonade.

"Wow," he glanced at me with a slight smirk. "You really sounded like Emma for a moment there. I think that girl's growing on you."

"What? Shut up," I thumped him.

"Just saying!" Al cringed away from me. "Ow – fine, whatever, I take it back! Though for the record, I like her, I think she's cool."

"Look, I ain't talking about her tonight, so just hand me the fucking lemonade, Al," I grumbled.

"Blimey," Al said lightly, passing it over as the blokes in the background roared with laughter over something. "I forgot what the not-quite-single life was like! Not sure I like it."

"Stay married, then," I shrugged. "and what d'you mean _not-quite-single_? I'm totally single! I could fuck whoever the hell I wanted!"

"By all means! Sleep with anyone who'll have you!" Al snorted, gesturing his arms out wide like the world was my sexual oyster. "As for me, I think I will stay happily married, thanks! Sort of … c'mon, let's get back out there and play a drinking game or something–"

"What d'you mean, _sort of_?" I asked, dumbly.

Al stared at me for a moment, peering back over his shoulder since he'd already started off across his kitchen. For a second, he held my look appearing almost startled, like I'd just caught him out on something. But a split second later, he was shrugging and saying,

"Nothing. C'mon, you coming?"

I let it drop. Something was up there, but it wasn't my department. If Al was having some kind of problem with his wife, I was certain I would've heard about it by now (nothing stays bloody secret in this family). I HAD heard that they'd been arguing recently over whether or not to have kids, but you know, they're Al and Bea! They're nothing if not cute and disgusting! Kind of like a pet dog. I've actually decided that Al and Bea are dogs now.

I need to get some 'blast in me.

Despite Al and Ben's adversions to gambling on Scorpius' well-being, I'm fairly certain that we weren't all that far off. Scorpius was by far the drunkest of us all, but it simply wasn't ok to pass out at pre-drinks at your own stag party! Nuh-uh, the hell that was happening! Al, the faithful best man, sneakily switched him to tonic water as we played a drinking game with cards until everyone was red in the face, no one could remember the rules and even Teddy couldn't tell the difference between the numbers anymore. That's about when we headed out because this shit was hittin' the road! No worrying about girls or weddings, just us and the blokes looking out for a good time! Within fifteen minutes, we'd reached our destination … the Portkey Office.

Ok, so I'm going to go out on the record now and say that I SERIOUSLY thought that this was our plan from the beginning! I mean, I hadn't heard of such a thing till now and sure, was a bit confused about why no one had ever mentioned it to me, but everyone was so excited and Scorpius was yelling, "VEGAS, BABY!" so I figured that this must've been what we were doing all along and I was just too out of it to notice. Needless to say, this WASN'T the original plan … but we'd discover that in the morning.

"I cannot believe that we are LITERALLY in Las Vegas!" James was saying in awe.

He'd found an abandoned pair of flamingo sunglasses and was currently wearing them in the blazing hot sunlight of honest-to-Merlin Las Vegas, Nevada! He tripped over a Muggle's cool box full of bottles of water that they'd been selling on the street corner and nearly pitched over. "WHOA–"

I honestly couldn't tell ya how we ended up here – travelling had all been a blur of the Portkey Office, someone I think was Trevor's sister and quite possibly James encouraging us all – but hell, I was in VEGAS! WHO THE HELL CARES? This was the city of sin, the city where shit happens and no one gives a fuck and you can be drunk at two in the afternoon like we were and nobody cared! Hindsight was probably going to tell me this was yet another RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™ but perhaps not quite along the same lines as sleeping with Emma had.

But this place was INCREDIBLE! My head was practically spinning under the oppressive heat, or at least heat compared to the blustery November night we'd left back in London. We'd been thrown back half a dozen time zones, had no money and very little experience in the Muggle world, but we were eating this shit up! Every hotel was about as crazy and lavish as the next, and we spent the entire afternoon and evening wandering up and across the main strip, staring at the lights, people in costume and elaborate casinos in awe. Hell, the wizarding world didn't have anything remotely close to rival this! The most we had was that goblin casino in Edinburgh, which was more of a dive than a spectacle like here (I don't recommend visiting).

As night fell, we realised that our heads had sobered up slightly after so much time just walking about and taking everything in.

I decided that that simply wouldn't do.

"To Scorpius!" I was yelling about ten o'clock at night, at a bar we'd found inside one of the hotels. Yes, these places were so big that they had their own bars, casinos, food courts, pools and theatres. Las Vegas is fucking crazy, guys. It hadn't even mattered that we didn't have any money, since everyone totally loves British people! The moment Hugo made friends with a group of blokes from Arizona, we had drinks all around!

"To Scorpius!" Al added as we all cheered and threw our drinks into the air. He ruffled Scorpius' hair and added, "May the bastard survive marriage after all!"

"It's Rose, here's hoping," Scorpius said, a punch-drunk grin on his face.

"Hey, are you guys from England?" a girl's voice said from behind me.

I turned around and noticed a group of three girls sat at the table next to us.

BINGO.

"Yeah, most of us are from London, or at least the area," I answered with a grin.

The girl with dyed black hair shoved at her friends. "Told you!" she cried.

"Soooorry, I didn't want to say England when it could've been Irish or Scottish or whatever," one of her friends answered in a slight slur.

"You guys liking Vegas?" the first girl asked, turning back to me eagerly.

Yep. She was hot. While the blokes behind me roared and spoke loudly about something that probably broke the Statue of Secrecy (let's just hope that everyone's too drunk in this bar to wonder why we were talking about broomsticks) I spun on my stool to face the girl and her mates. "Party's just gettin' started! What brings you girls here?"

"Bachelorette weekend!" the girl answered, gesturing to her third friend, who I noticed was wearing a veil and currently looking like she was half-conscious, slumped over the table top. "… um, we've been going for a while," she admitted.

"What a coincidence!" I cried happily. "It just so happens that we are a stag night! Like, Bachelor party, I mean."

"And you came all the way here from England?" the girl's friend asked, sceptically.

"Actually, I'm not entirely sure how or why we got here, I shrewdly suspect James, but I'm here now!" I said enthusiastically. "My name's Fred."

"Georgia," the girl with black hair smiled at me. "The one who's comatose is Tory and Nat here just wants to go home already."

"I'm tired!" Nat protested.

"Well, if you're up for hanging out a bit longer, I'll buy you a drink."

"I don't think Tory's up for another …" Nat poked her friend on the shoulder. The bride-to-be waved it off like a gnat.

"I'll take you up," Georgia smirked.

Ouch. She reminded me of Emma's smirk, the one that had the ability to smoulder any wayward intentions and just cave to whatever she said, which I wasn't willing to let happen often. Of the many women I'd thrown myself at since March, I'd always stayed clear of these ones. I didn't want any more reminding. But there was a small, furiously stubborn part of me (that sounded suspiciously like the 'blast talking) that screamed, "Just do it!" Avoiding anyone who reminded me of Emma was no way to get over her, right? Best to finally just do it and realise that I was worried for nothing. Flirt, have fun, and you'll soon see that you don't need Emma in particular to have amazing sex. See? There's plenty of other women out there just like her!

 _Fuck you, there's only one Emma Terry._

Shut up, brain.

I noticed over the next hour or so that our merry group of British drunks was starting to get a little spread out. Trevor had got behind the bar somehow and was pouring drinks ad-hoc while Toby distracted the manager. James was totally plastered, still wearing those ridiculous sunglasses and currently dancing with Teddy, Ben and Alex, as Hugo swung around an acquired feather boa on the dance floor. Scorpius was at the bar, rambling to anyone who would listen about the fact that he was getting married. I don't know whether it was because it was Vegas or whether I'd just drunk too much, but everything here seemed bigger! Louder. The base pounded in our chests and every time Georgia touched my arm when I introduced her to James I leapt out of my skin. I noticed that Trevor was subtly trying to get Scorpius to open up and talk more about 'anything that was worrying him' at the bar, while Toby hastily shoved drinks under Scorpius' nose in retaliation.

Honestly, considering this family's tendency to gamble, we REALLY shouldn't have come to Vegas!

But I had to buy Georgia that drink somehow, so out of sheer luck, we managed to turn her ten dollar note into twenty. I convinced several of the others to come along and we all ended up yelling and cheering around a craps table at one point as Hugo rolled for us. "DRINKS ON USSSS!" James was yelling under the bright lights, reaching out and hugging the exasperated craps dealer.

"Sir, please let me go, or I will have to call security," he sighed.

"Heeeey, wait – 'm getting married too!" Tory the bride-to-be was saying, slapping Scorpius next to her a high-five.

"Are ya nervous?"

" _As fuck_."

Scorpius nodded seriously. "I hear you, sister!"

"WAIT! WAIT!" we heard a rather familiar voice yelling out, and we all turned from the table to see a rather pissed off security guard heavily escorting our own Trevor Moyle across the casino floor. He was pointing us out eagerly and yelling, "Look, I know that bar manager got a little mad at me, but I'm with them! They'll vouch for me, I swear!"

The security guard sighed.

"Do any of you know this man?"

We all hastily avoided his gaze and yelled, "Nooooo!"

"No idea!"

"Never seen 'im before in my life!"

I noticed Toby was cackling behind the security officer, watching this all unfold with glee. I think we all have some serious problems, but that was nothing Vegas couldn't fix! Everything started to become a rush of colour and laughter, of Tory lying down and snoring behind a fake tree inside the casino and getting our picture taken with several costumed models advertising one of the headliner shows. It was James crying when he lost his flamingo glasses and it was flirting with Georgia all night. At first it was great! She was funny, she didn't seem like a stalker and she would grin at me until I felt the thrill of arousal. That's literally all you can ask for these days. But it wasn't until we were snogging when I realised that her cheeky smile and no-shit-taking voice was starting to prove too much.

I wasn't quite sure where we were at that point – an open all hours restaurant? A club of some kind? – but we were both sat on bar stools and her hands were tugging at my collar the way she used to. And suddenly, Emma was in my head and I couldn't get her fucking out of it! Jesus Christ, this kept happening a lot. I'd clearly gotten used to sleeping with her, because for some reason nobody else ever quite did it right in comparison. _Shake it off, shake it off, a hot girl is kissing you!_ I tried to scream at my brain. There is nothing wrong with Georgia, she's doing this just fine, it'll be grand! I tugged her closer off her bar stool, and she moved to stand in front of me. Without even thinking about it, I bent down to accommodate and found her mouth once more.

Then, I suddenly jerked back to stare at her.

"What?" she asked, eyes bright under the bar lights.

"You're short," I said, dumbly.

"No shit, I'm five foot two," Georgia snorted.

She was basically as short as Emma and with no warning whatsoever, it completely threw me off. I stared at her for a second more, before suddenly pushing her away and leaping unsteadily off my own bar stool. "Noooo, nope, sorry, can't do this anymore!" I said.

"You're kidding?" Georgia raised an eyebrow. She looked like she wanted to follow me, but I held up a hand hastily.

"You're too short!"

"Excuse me?" Georgia glared.

"Look, there's nothing _wrong_ with being short," I added, quickly. "but final straw! You just remind me too much of her and damn me to hell, but I can't sleep with you!"

"… because I remind you of someone? Who?" Georgia asked in confusion.

"Emma!" I yelled. "Like DUH."

"Who the crap is Emma?"

Oh, right. I struggled to come up with the words to describe her, so in the end I just said, "She's basically my ex."

"Ohhhh …" Georgia sighed. "Now I get it."

"Wait, no, no you don't!" I insisted. "No one gets it! Not even James, really! She's not actually my ex, she's not my anything, but you remind me so much of her and I thought I could do it, but I snapped and sorry! CAN'T DO IT!"

"Whoa, you lost me," Georgia rubbed her forehead. "Either I drank too much or you spoke too fast. Let me clarify, are we having sex or not?"

"No."

"Right," Georgia sighed. "You … I don't know, wanna talk about it?"

"NO!"

"Ok! God …" Georgia threw me a look, before glancing around for her girls. I almost forgot that there were other people in the room. I think we were in some kind of dance bar, although Scorpius looked like he was passed out over the bar top. James was currently chatting good-naturedly to Nat with his arm around Scorpius like his friend was still upright and talking. The others were starting to appear from random places around the dance floor, staggering on over towards us with arms over shoulders and warbling vaguely the last song that had been played. Dumbly, I realised that the place had to be closing, as people were starting to disperse in varying states for the grand hotel beyond.

"Look, I gotta get my girls to bed, I think," Georgia glanced back with a slight smile. "Where're you guys staying?"

"Uhhh, yeah, we kind of came here without a plan," I admitted.

"We're just upstairs in this hotel," Georgia told me. "You can crash with us, if you like?"

"There's 10 of us, would we all fit?"

"I only count seven," Georgia mentioned. I turned around and noticed that sure enough, Toby and Trevor were probably still out there somewhere in the depths of the hotel, but also apparently missing Al. Actually, now that I thought about it, I don't think I ever remembered seeing him all evening.

"Ah well, I'm sure they'll turn up," I shrugged. "If you're willing to have us unruly men, that is."

"If you can push me away of your own accord, I think we can," Georgia laughed. "No hard feelings – c'mon, Nat!" she added, moving over to her friend. "Time for bed! Where's Tory?"

"FINALLY!" Nat cried. "I think she's still sleeping outside in the casino."

"Wha's 'appenin'?" Scorpius groaned as James hauled him up.

"Bedtime, mate," James snorted.

It took some time herding everyone out of the bar and towards the lifts through the casino that would take us upstairs. I suppose having it in the middle was kind of the point, but it was still annoying in that the dinging sounds and cheers distracted everyone every five seconds. "But I just want to roll once!" Hugo cried as Teddy dragged him away like a Quaffle once more from the craps table. We even found Trevor and Toby eventually, apparently having been mesmerised by the slot machines. "We won about ten Galleons!" Toby told us as Ben and Alex helped rope them in.

"Uhhhh, dollars?" Trevor added hastily at the girl's looks of confusion.

Al was still MIA, but we all forgot about it as we eventually collapsed inside the girl's hotel room. There were only two double beds and not a lot of floor space, but we made do. Tory was dumped onto the end of one bed, Nat sharing with her. Teddy threw Hugo down onto the other before promptly collapsing. Ben squeezed onto the foot of the bed, Alex already snoring on the floor under the table. The night soon caught up with Scorpius, who curled himself up into a ball on the small two seated sofa and immediately fell fast asleep. James, always utterly determined to squeeze himself in anywhere there was space, so long as he wasn't on the floor, shoved Scorpius over and crawled in next to him. With Trevor and Toby passed out spread-eagled near the bathroom door, I was left to find a space with Georgia.

We ended up sitting and leaning against the TV cabinet, the carpet surprisingly comfy for a Vegas hotel room. Everyone was already snoring, but Georgia asked me,

"C'mon, tell me about your ex!"

"No," I said, stubbornly.

"You know you want to," Georgia grinned.

"No, I think I really don't," I pointed out. "She's not even my ex! We just …"

"Had a thing?"

I glanced at Georgia. "I was totally up for sleeping with you, you know, and then you had to go and ruin it."

"I can't help it if I remind you of some girl I've never met."

"This conversation is going nowhere."

"Do you love her?"

I groaned and flopped onto the floor. Ow. Georgia just giggled and followed suit. "Look, we were sleeping together," I explained as we lay side by side in between the TV cabinet and the ends of the beds. "I don't … I'm not a relationship bloke. But I liked her. And she liked me … but things got too real, so we stopped seeing each other."

"You know, normally when you fall in love, that's your cue to like, do something about it," Georgia said. "Not freak out and dump the chick."

"How do you know that's what happened?"

"You're saying it's not?"

I paused. "I dunno 'bout love … but I fell for her. A lot. It's fine now, I'm over it, but you just reminded me of her, is all, and I thought it'd be fine …"

"But it wasn't," Georgia pointed out. "Sounds to me like you're NOT over her. Just sayin'."

"Ah, what the hell do you know?"

"At this hour of the morning? Literally nothing," Georgia said. "but hey, if you're ever back in the US after this, come visit us in Visalia!"

"Mmmm … ok."

And we both passed out.

* * *

Waking up in the morning was when it really hit us what we'd gone and done.

"Oh, shiiiiit …" someone was groaning.

"Why is the phone ringingggg?" someone who sounded like Hugo complained.

"Shut it uuuup!" one of the girl's cried.

Turns out it was Scorpius' cell phone, but he didn't realise that he had James half sharing the tiny sofa with him. He moved to dig it out of his pocket and basically kicked James in the face. "MATE, oh man, I'm sorry …" Scorpius said.

James gingerly prodded his cheek as he picked up the fallen cell phone. "It's fine, I survived Libby in labour, nothing really hurts in comparison … hello?" He finally answered the call that had been shrilling at top volume and causing everyone in the room to cringe and cry sweet, sweet tears of remorse. I could hear Rose screaming in reply on the other end from all the way over here.

"Uhhh, yeah, about that …" James was trying to somehow explain. I raised my head to notice him glancing around the hotel room in slight confusion. "I think we're in Las Vegas?"

He cringed as Rose screeched down the other end. Scorpius sat up then and asked,

"Is that Rose?"

James nodded fearfully.

He gestured for the phone. "Don't worry. I got this."

Turns out he didn't have it, but at least he tried. James had handed the phone over quickly, letting Scorpius get up and warble, "Heeeeey, Rosie–" before our cousin got a good tirade going on. James dropped back into the sofa with a wary sigh and I sat up from the floor, wincing at how my back hurt from sleeping on nothing but carpet and half of what appeared to be Georgia last night. She was still half-asleep, moaning, so I looked up and caught James just looking at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Do I even need to say?"

"Ok, fine, so I snogged her–"

"Glad to be of service …" Georgia put in groggily from behind me and James snorted.

"Mate," he was shaking his head. "It's not the fact that you snogged her. You've done that far too many times than I care to remember, or witness, for that matter. No, it's the fact that you stopped. Don't think I didn't notice!"

His expression was so pointed that I had to look away. James, I KNOW, ok? I know that said a lot. _I know_ I was gonna have to address it at some point. But thankfully, he let it go for the time being and instead, changed the topic when Teddy enquired into something he was apparently trying to remember. Meanwhile, Scorpius had gone from getting yelled at, to what appeared to be engaging in phone sex right in front of everyone.

Like I've said before, I will never understand that relationship.

"Hey, thanks for letting us crash here," I added to Georgia then, as James and Teddy continued to deliberate over what had happened.

"Oh, it's no problem," Georgia said, stretching absently on the floor. "Do you remember much?"

"Apart from kissing you?" I asked. "Apparently not, although maybe that's a good thing."

"For the record, I don't care that you kissed me," Georgia snorted. "We might've had fun, but I guess we'll never know."

"Best left in the past."

"Yeah," Georgia grinned. We all made to move off the ground then, rousing those who were still unconscious (we had to roll Ben out of bed) and not to mention asking Rose if she knew where the ever-loving fuck Al was. According to her, she'd been trying to call us all day ("Why my sister hasn't killed me by now is beyond me!" Trevor had mentioned. "Also, did I get arrested last night by any chance?") since we'd forgotten all about time differences and realised that we must've been missing at home for several hours by now.

"Al made it back to England apparently," Scorpius explained, repeating back what Rose told him. "She called him when I didn't pick up the first hundred times she called me."

"What's he doing back in England already?" Hugo asked in confusion.

"I dunno, apparently Bea went missing too, so I'm guessing he went back to be with her?" Scorpius shrugged, though he still looked pretty bewildered.

"Well, he's accounted for, that's what matters," Alex yawned then, only just starting to rouse. He apparently forgot that he was under the table, since he accidentally whacked his head, causing Ben to snort with laughter.

We did eventually make it back to England, after saying goodbye, thank you and congratulations to Tory's future wedding, and to Nat and Georgia for letting us crash with them. They hugged us all and said it was no problem, and Georgia even told me that she'd find me on Facebook, whatever the hell that was. It was early morning in USA, but by the time we made it back home, it was dreary, cold and pushing into the late afternoon and early evening. No wonder Rose had been going spare! Everybody pounded each other on the backs for a night well done before dispersing for their own humble abodes, no doubt to sleep for the next ten hours and/or eat a lot of junk food. James Flooed home mumbling about Libby and, "Don't I have a baby or something …?" and Scorpius was shaking his head that Rose was going to murder him. I made it home luckily with no hijinks or women trying to kill me.

So all in all, I think I could consider it a successful stag night!

Until we heard the news.

* * *

A/N: I want to mention now before we get really into this wedding that I fucking caved and starting writing it from Rose's POV as well ( _because ima slut 4 dis universe and she deserves it_ ). So like, if at any point over the next few chapters, you think there's something I've failed to expand on, or mention, or you just find yourself yelling, "BUT WHAT ABOUT–?!" don't worry. I know. I'm probably covering it. :)

I'm so sorry this is posted late. Coincidentally, it was because I was at my cousin's hen party! (Not in Vegas, thank goodness, though for the record I have actually been there!). I'm also sorry this chapter didn't have Emma and I struggled with it a lot actually, to the point where I apologise if it sucks, so if you could please let me know what you think I'd be eternally grateful! Thank you so much. I love you all. xoxo

PLEASE TELL ME ON A SCALE OF *1-10 HOW MUCH OF AN IDIOT FRED IS!

Until next time -

\- Moon. :D

PS. *Adjusted Fred Idiot Scale:

1 - only mostly in pain  
2 - why are you such a douchecanoe  
3 - do you even have a fucking brain  
4 - I hate you  
5 - arrrgHHH#VN&$%GNU  
6 - dude. dUDE.  
7 - What. The. Fuck.  
8 - I can't even  
9 - send help  
10 - SET ME ON FUCKING FIREEEE


	12. That one time I … wtf is happening?

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 12: That one time I … wtf is happening?

We don't know what happened.

We don't know why, we don't know how. Every person I spoke to knew only slightly more or less than the last. All anyone seemed to know was one fact: that sometime roughly between the hours of 10pm the night of the stag and hen parties and 11am the next morning (England time), Mr and Mrs. Al and Bea Potter – THE Al&Bea! – had broken up.

I know. Say it all collectively with me:

WHAT. THE. FUCK?!

" _I know!_ What the hell happened?!" I had yelled when James turned up on Monday just before I was going to head into work and as a greeting, yelled out, "AL AND BEA BROKE UP!"

"Wait – how do you know already?" he added after my question, slamming the front door shut behind him.

"I heard from Dad – I think the entire family already knows, mate," I pointed out. "Have you got any other information? Because all anyone can tell me is that Bea kicked him out of the house, which sounds fucking LUDACRIS–"

"Yeah, it's true," James sighed warily. He clapped my shoulder hello, and if I thought I looked like a mess, he was much worse. I gaped at him in astonishment as he moved into the kitchen and just collapsed at the table.

"So they really _did_ break up?" I asked.

"Apparently. Sort of …" James sighed, rubbing his head. "I don't know, the conversation got complicated. Look, you got coffee? I've been awake since four this morning."

"Oh, I've got bloody coffee," I growled. No more fucking tea in this place. "I've also got time, because work can wait. Explain to me what the hell is going on!"

James just rolled his eyes as the kettle boiled and eventually, we were both sitting at my kitchen table with similar expressions of disbelief and slight anger. I couldn't even begin to explain the resentment I felt, but at least it seemed that James felt it too. It was just … Al and Bea! AL AND BEA! You don't get it, they've been together since … since … FOREVER! They met as kids and yeah, admittedly I don't know a thing about their relationship, just that they got together as teenagers and that they had been married for a year and a half now. I think we all know that I don't believe in true love in any sense of the term, but it fucking applied to those two, ok? They were the solid ones, they were that couple who just stood anything and ploughed through it together, because being apart was unfathomable. Everyone looked up to them. I know Rose practically hero-worshiped their relationship. Maybe it was wrong of us to do so, because they're human like us all, but hell, no matter how fucked up my love life seemed to be, at least there had always been Al and Bea, right?

Right.

So this wasn't ok!

"I still don't know a lot," James explained to me, his face scowling like all he wanted to do was give his little brother a good kick up the arse. "I got home from Vegas yesterday and it was all fine and dandy. Clara was still with Libby's parents, so we were more than happy to make up for lost time when MY BROTHER comes banging in!" I snorted at my best friend's indignant gesturing. "He said he felt bad about it, but asked us for a place to stay, because apparently Bea told him to leave."

"He's still at your place?"

"He's babysitting Clara for me right now," James said. "At least I got something out of this."

"But why on earth would Bea do that?" I cried.

"You got me!" James said. "The girl's like another sister to me, we talk sometimes, and I know that her and Al have been arguing a lot recently, but nothing that would …"

"Arguing about what?"

"Bea is on Team Wait," James said grimly. "Al, on the other hand, is on Team Baby It Up."

"Ah," I said. "You'd think they would've talked about that before they got married."

"Bea wants kids _someday_ , just not now like Al does!" James said exasperatedly. "The only reason my brother's got babies on the brain is because Libby and I had one! It's utterly stupid, but something as ridiculous as a fight over when to have kids isn't enough to break them up. I know them, we all do. Something else is wrong …"

"Well, I've been waiting for the day I'd have to curse the significant other of one of my family members," I sighed. "Never thought it'd be Bea, though! Now where's my wand …?"

"Sit down, Dickhead," James snorted, reaching out and shoving me back into my chair. He took a large gulp of coffee before adding, "You know there's something bigger happening, here. Let's face it, we both know Bea. She's a sweetheart and she loves Al more than anything in the world. I don't even know if what's happening here is an actual break up, because Al said that she basically shut down and refused to talk to him or explain why she was doing it. She just kept asking him to leave!"

"Maybe I need to have a talk with that girl after all," I mentioned. "Break Ups: And How To Make It Clear."

"Like I said, I don't think it was an actual break up," James sighed in irritation. "They both clearly still love each other! I think Rose knows what's going on, but she won't tell me, the bastard."

"Well, that's that," I shrugged. "We can't do anything about it."

"But it's AL AND BEA though!" James cried. "I just want to slam their heads together! What could possibly be so bad that they had to separate?"

"Dude, I'm not even gonna pretend to know a thing about marriage," I snorted into my coffee.

"Hell, neither do I," James said. "I barely even know how to raise a baby. She's going to scream through every second of Rose and Scorpius' wedding, I just know it!"

"Shit, how're Al and Bea supposed to be part of this wedding when they're being all stupid like this?" I pointed out.

"With any luck, getting Rose and Scorpius to the alter will remind them of why they got married in the first place," James answered. He sighed once more into his coffee, before glancing at his watch. "Look, sorry mate, I'd love to keep dissecting this with you until we come up with a sound theory, but I want to get back to my daughter. I've barely had any time with her since she was born and I need to make the most of this week."

"Libby mentioned that you were feelin' guilty," I said casually.

It wasn't a question or even a lead in to a conversation, really. I probably wasn't the best person to talk to about that kind of thing, but it was James and I wanted him to know that I was there to listen if he wanted. "Yeah," he said. Tiredness was over every inch of his face. "I dunno, I've just felt weird about still working while Libby's on leave. Clara responds so much better to her. She sleeps, she'll calm down, but nothing I do ever seems to work! But Libby's got her hands full trying to keep Rosie from having a meltdown, so I requested a few days off this week so I could look after her."

"And how's that going?"

"Terrifying," James admitted. "She legit hates me, Fred!"

"She's only known you for like, a month," I pointed out with a snort.

James opened his mouth to counter, but it appeared that I'd struck him dumb. "Wait," he said. "that … actually kind of makes sense."

"I mean,you've known her longer," I added. "So like, yeah, it makes sense that you've already got this weird attachment to her while she's probably still looking up at you and asking 'who the fuck are ya?' She's literally only known you for four weeks!"

"I … Fred, I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, I don't even know what I'm bloody talking about these days."

James shook his head with a laugh. "Welp. Time to prise Clara out of my brother's arms and send him back to work. I honestly don't know what I'm gonna do with him, mate."

"Just take the extra help while you can and don't worry about it," I rolled my eyes.

"What is life, Fred."

"Beats the fuck outta me."

* * *

The next couple of days naturally didn't shed any more light on what we were all starting to call the A&B Crisis. Well, maybe it was just me calling it that. Whatever, it'll catch on soon. Anyway, the closer we got to Rose and Scorpius' wedding, the more crazy and wired this entire nutty family seemed to become, to the point where I was like,

"Ehhhh, fuck it. I'm sure they'll figure it out eventually."

Besides, I picked up a case at work and had to get that shit done before the wedding, otherwise I may have to spend Saturday just listening to the 'I do's from the other end of the intercom in my ear as I staked out the house of some bloke who had assaulted his neighbour. Honestly, the brains some people have. It took about three days to finally track him down (hiding out in the basement of his mate's house … again, some people just don't have any originality) and yet another entire afternoon talking him into returning into Auror custody. And by 'talking' I mean tackling him over a coffee table.

"Just don't even ask …" I'd snapped at Yael and Kayla as I'd dragged the bloke through the office, limping and with a giant bruise on my jaw.

By the time I made it back home, I was beaten, tired and more than ready for a shower and mindless television. My brain may have been hurting enough as it was, but I needed to shut it down for a while, and Muggle TV shows certainly helped with that! I'd just stepped out of the steaming bathroom in a towel, wondering whether it was even worth putting on clothes, when I got a knock at my door.

At this time?

I snatched up my wand out of instinct and moved down the hallway. After the day I'd had, I wasn't going to take any chances that the bloke had somehow broken out of holding and come after me! But it was to my utter shock that I opened the door to find Emma standing there.

Jesus fucking Christ.

It might've been eight months ago with her standing in her Cursebreaker uniform and on my doorstep after a long day. I didn't understand. I'd done a damn good job since March in trying to forget about her! Sure, there was that one time we kissed at the gala two months ago, and the fact that I could still remember her face when she'd last walked out my door, but all minor incidents aside, it'd been a long time! No, fuck this. Fuck her. I'd worked too hard at getting over her. I wasn't going down this road again.

NOPE.

"Hang on," I said, sticking my head out my front door and glancing from left to right.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't worry, just checking I'm in the right flat," I said.

Emma rolled her eyes. I felt her hand shove at my shoulder, pushing me back inside as she followed, using her free hand to slam the door shut behind her. "Shut up," she told me … before kissing me.

HELP.

Turns out I'm all talk, because I didn't do a fucking thing to stop her. I stumbled back slightly as she pushed her body close, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me down. All the attraction I'd been trying to supress ever since I'd told her we had to stop seeing each other was suddenly flooding back at quite frankly alarming rates. Look, she's hot, I can't help it ok! I kissed her back for several moments, my nerve-ends on fucking fire from being this close to her, and realising that I was literally still just wearing a towel. Then –

"Whoa, wait – um, shit–" I pulled back quickly, raising my hands because she was starting to burn to touch. "You just – we – Emma, what the HELL is going on?"

Emma just looked at me. "To be honest, I really don' know," she admitted.

I stared at her hard for a moment.

Oh, fuck it.

I thrust a hand into her hair and kissed her deeply. It started out like that kiss on the dance floor at the gala, but soon turned into something else. Something that took me all the way back to that night we first met and the subsequent nights after that. She hummed in satisfaction, arms snaking up around my back and tugging at the towel. Why was Emma always so warm, so smooth, so … I couldn't even pretend that I didn't miss this. No matter how many times I'd slept with someone else, something in me kept coming back to sex with her. I could anticipate what was coming with her. It wasn't something new, it was something that I was very much familiar with and it was fucking thrilling. My towel hit the floor and when those nimble fingers of hers grasped me I let out a hiss. Oh, god. I was about to explode already, and I'd barely been kissing her a minute. Keep doing that Emma, never stop, _never stop_ –

BANG, BANG, BANG.

What the hell?

I shoved Emma away out of pure reaction, both of us turning to stare at my front door in confusion. Someone else was knocking? FOR GOD'S SAKE, SINCE WHEN WAS I THIS POPULAR? I glanced at Emma again. I was literally standing naked in my hallway and I didn't know if I wanted to just ignore the person behind the door, or thank them for stopping me from making a very big mistake!

"I, um–" I began.

"Get the door," Emma said, still breathing heavily as she pressed her fingers over her eyes. "I'll be in the kitchen."

"Right. God …" my head was still spinning as I bent to hastily retrieve my towel and pick up my wand that I'd obviously dropped at some point between answering the door and Emma first kissing me. I chucked it on the table next to my front door that I often reserved for unopened mail. After wrapping the towel back around me (not that it did much) I opened the door to find Libby Fletcher on my doorstep … baby Clara in her arms.

Fuck. Talk about mood whiplash.

"Libby?" I said. "What are you–?"

"Please, I'm desperate!" Libby immediately pleaded. Then, she seemed to notice my dishevelled appearance and wrinkled her nose. "Erm … I mean, bad time?"

"Oh no, this is Thursday casual," I said dryly. Never mind that I was probably still red in the face and that I was definitely still a little horny. Baby or no baby, you couldn't drive Emma's touch out of my mind _that_ fast. Libby's eyes were exasperatedly and determinedly fixed on my face and I sighed. Great. She was probably assuming that she'd gone and interrupted Fred Solo Time.

"Look, any other time I'd leave ya alone to get back to … whatever," she wrinkled her nose. "but I'm bloody desperate. Rose is freaking out because she went to pick up the bridesmaids dresses from Victoire, except one of them was missing and I'm sure it's just gotten mixed up in all the orders somehow, but I'm a goddamned bridesmaid and I've got to go help sort it out, but James went back to work today and I've got no one to watch Clara!"

I just blinked at that onslaught of information.

"I'm sorry, I think you've confused me with the lovely cat lady who lives down the hall," I said.

"Yeah, trust me, you are the last person on my list," Libby snorted. Clara was tugging on Libby's hair, making those funny baby noises that everyone seems to find so cute. I'll admit, Clara was adorable. But looking after her? BY MYSELF? Libby was out of her bloody mind! "No offence," she added.

"Don't worry, I'd be last on my list, too!" I said. "Seriously, Lib, as much as I love her, there's no way I could look after her–"

"Ohhhh, PLEASE?" Libby begged. "Seriously, it would be like an hour at the most, she'll probably just nap the whole time anyway! I'd owe you, like, a million and a half favours, and I … erm, promise to never make fun of the time you punched out Sebastian Cortez again!"

I almost thought I heard a stifled laugh come from the direction of the kitchen, which did make Libby glance that way for a moment. I almost wished I hadn't put down my wand so that I could kick her all the way from over here. I was going to RUE THE DAY I'd ever first heard that son of a bitch's name! The amount of shit I'd taken for it was going to haunt me for the rest of my miserable life.

"I'll admit that I may even go for that," I told Libby. "but you're seriously going to trust me with your daughter? What if I screw up, or–?"

"Then you shall not live a second longer," Libby said, sweetly. "Look, I know. It isn't your thing, but you love her, everyone is out working and you are literally the only person who's been home so far! I've got about five minutes before Rose murders me, so – PLEASE?"

"Libby–"

"PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE–?"

"Oh, bloody hell, fine!" I cried, hastily cutting off Libby's begs. "I'll watch her! But you promise she'll sleep the whole time?"

"Yes! Thank you, thank you!" Libby exclaimed. "Here–" She dumped a large baby bag at my feet, before gently depositing said baby in my arms. "Don't worry, everything you'll need's in there, including a cot, but seriously just put her down and she'll be out like a light, we were up until about three this morning, so she's exhausted–"

"I – but – hang on, wait! What if–?"

"Thank you so much!" Libby cut in over me. "Bye-bye, Clara – I will be back soon, and please do not kill Uncle Freddie, ok? I love you!"

"WAIT–!"

The door slammed.

I was left a little blindsided for a moment. Shit, I've somehow let myself get talked into looking after the Tiny Human for at least a whole hour without killing myself (or said Tiny Human) in the process! I glanced down at the offending Clara, who was peering up at me curiously with her month-old eyes.

"You," I said. "are going to be the death of me."

I heard the kitchen door open and I looked around in a slight panic. Emma hesitantly emerged, looking half like she wanted to scarper, and half like she was just about to burst into laughter at the sight of me standing there with a baby like this happens every day. I mean, shit, we'd encountered our fair share of moment killers during our time sleeping together (like when she had accidentally kneed me in the balls, or that one time we were both drunk, slightly hysterical and couldn't get clothes off to the point where we just gave up and ordered pizza instead) but there was nothing quite like this!

"You look a little shellshocked," she noted.

"How could she do this to me?!" I hissed, moving forward and nearly tripping over the bloody baby bag in the process. "I mean, c'mon Libby! She knows I'd be useless at this!"

"Good god, watch out!" Emma cried, holding out her arms hastily as I stumbled back upright. "Come here, you gorgeous girl–" she added to Clara.

"God, thank you, just take her–" I sighed, letting Emma gather up Clara in her arms.

I don't know how a potential shag session turned into babysitting, but the wonders of life are apparently not done fucking with me yet. So to keep myself from staring at the image of Emma cuddling the little baby, cooing to her and grinning despite the fact that moments ago she'd had me moaning under her hands, I turned and scarpered to my bedroom. I mean, yeah, I really needed to get changed here, but I also needed to get away! I slammed my head against the bedroom door.

 _Fred, Fred, Fred, what the hell are you doing?_

That was when I took a fucking good look at myself, because as we know, points where you're freaking out and not thinking straight are the perfect times to do that! Emma was the one who came here. Emma was the one who kissed me. Clearly, she wasn't doing quite as well as I also regularly told myself. I wasn't about to start some crazy on-off thing, I couldn't go there, which I was certain was where that out in the hallway had been heading. We needed to do something else about this, because I had to get over her _somehow_ , right? And if staying away and sleeping with every woman in London wasn't working … I clearly needed to try a new tactic.

"Libby's a liar when she said she would sleep the whole time," I pointed out about twenty minutes later, after having thrown on the first t-shirt and trousers I could find and joining the girls back in my lounge. We sat on the floor, Emma playing with Clara while I leaned against my coffee table next to them. Two cups of tea sat on the table.

"Half the time Libby says that she hates this little creature, so I can believe that," Emma said. She glanced up at me then and added, "Look, I'm so sorry, Fred … it probs wouldn't have been the best idea."

"Weeeeell," I shrugged with a half-hearted grin. "Can't say I don't agree. Why did you come here now, of all times?"

"A … I guess a build-up of a lota things, really. But mostly it's been a long day," Emma was rubbing her eyes.

"Eh," I said. "guess I can't say I've made any better life choices, so I won't judge."

"You're saying that you're a bad life choice?"

"Princess, I _know_ I'm a bad life choice," I pointed out.

Emma thankfully managed to snort with laughter. "Y'know, I can't believe I ever thought I missed ya callin' me that."

"What, you mean 'Princess'?"

"Ah, well, I guess you're still a Bonehead," Emma added.

We were silent for several moments, as I watched her coo to Clara and tickle her lil baby feet. She missed me calling her stupid nicknames. At the end of what was probably a long and exhausting day, she came to me, the prick who basically threw her out his front door six months ago. Why was this so hard for us? WHAT DID I EVER DO TO DESERVE THIS? Hell, I think I was more willing to look after Clara than deal with this shit, and that was saying something! I couldn't sit in silence for much longer though, so I said,

"You know, I can barely comprehend that I'm babysitting a one month old baby."

"I'm sorry, _you're_ babysitting?"

"Ok, fine, I'm watching someone else babysit while I'll happily take the credit later," I managed to smirk. I pointed at her then and said, "No one finds out about this, by the way! Not Libby, especially not James."

"Finds out about what?" Emma laughed. "Literally nothin' happened!"

"I mean looking after Clara with me," I said exasperatedly. "You were never here! I just … ain't dealing with that. You know what they're like, they'll ask questions, they'll somehow magically figure out that we got off again."

"Look, we've already established that that was a bad call," Emma said. She met my pleading look and added, "Fred, I'm sorry I came here. We can say or not say whatever you want, I don' care. We're just a pair of hot messes at the end of the day."

"James once called us a beautiful train wreck."

"Thank you, James," Emma muttered.

"But you're right, hot mess describes this insanity fairly well."

"So what do we do now?"

That's the fucking question, isn't it?

"I think," I paused, picking up my cup of stupid tea and taking a sip now that it wasn't scalding. "we go to Rose and Scorpius' wedding. We drink a lot of champagne and … we just go from there."

"Sounds like a plan," Emma managed a smile. "One problem, I can't go to the wedding."

"What? Why not?" I asked.

"They started planning this thing back when I hardly knew 'em!" Emma reminded me. "By the time Rose realised that I wasn't actually officially invited, the catering was already paid for. I can come watch the ceremony, but the reception can't happen … which is unfortunate, 'cause the food sounds divine."

"Well, that's just fucking stupid, who needs food at a wedding, really?"

"Mmm, well it helps in keeping your guests there without them starving to death."

"Al and Bea didn't have any food at their reception!" I told her. "Long story," I added, since Emma gave me a confused look. "Let's just say the first wedding got cancelled. Either way, we all still had a great time! Even though we ended up getting dinner at this pizza place down the road."

"I heard that Al and Bea broke up," Emma said then.

"OH MY GOD, ok, don't get me started!" I exclaimed.

Clara gave a startled cry then at my exuberant outburst and began fussing. "Oh, shit, shit – sorry!" I added to the Tiny Human. Emma shushed her gently, but apparently the girl wasn't having it, so I was forced to pick her up and remind her that I wasn't some giant come to eat her or whatever. I don't know, I dunno how baby's minds work. At least I was comfortable holding her now. I scooped her up from the floor and exasperatedly cuddled her to my chest. Eventually, Clara seemed to start believing that I wasn't evil anymore and quieted down before nodding off.

"Is she … sleeping?" I asked in bewilderment, glancing down at her awkwardly.

"I think so," Emma snorted.

"Shit, I wish I had that kind of talent."

"You do, or are you forgetting the time you once fell asleep on top of me?"

"Hey! To be fair, I'd just worked like twelve hours straight and I was _very_ tired, ok?" I reminded her.

"You are never gonna tell me your job, are ya?"

"Not in this lifetime, Princess."

"It's fine, it's fine," Emma smirked. "I'll find out eventually. Just like I'll find out what happened between Al and Bea, because seriously, no one seems to know anything!"

"But you're a girl," I pointed out, leaning back against the coffee table more comfortably so that Clara could sleep against my chest. It was weird, but it was starting to feel kind of nice having the Tiny Human close like that. "You went to the hens party, couldn't you tell something was wrong?"

"Fred, I was bliiiiind drunk that night," Emma rolled her eyes. "Besides, Bea bailed out pretty early on, I only found out later the next day from Libby. Besides, you know them better!"

"Hey, I've known them longer, that's not the same as knowing them better," I scowled. "I don't pretend to know shit about their marriage."

"Probably a good thing."

"Oi!"

Emma just sniggered before glancing up. She watched me holding Clara for a moment, before saying,

"You know, I think this is the longest conversation we've ever had."

"I think it's the only conversation we've ever had."

"You mean all that pillow talk didn't count?"

"If by pillow talk you mean all the times I asked if you wanted to use the shower, then yeah, it didn't count."

Emma laughed. "Fred, you're still a little shit sometimes, but you are literally cuddling a baby right now. You know you're all right … right?"

"Sweetheart, I'm fucking fantastic, and you know it," I told her.

"Oh, I dunno 'bout that," Emma smirked. "But, I'll still see you at the ceremony at least. You'll have to let me know if the food is any good at the reception."

"Wait, you're leaving?" I asked.

"I think I'd better," Emma admitted, sitting up straight and glancing around, probably looking for her stuff.

"But you didn't even drink your tea, and the only reason I've still got that vile stuff in my cupboards is because of you!" I complained. I scrambled to my knees, wrapping a giant hand around Clara's tiny head and gathering her up with me. "Shit, I can't look after her by myself!"

"What're you talking 'bout? You're doin' a swell job!" Emma pointed out.

"Emma," I pleaded desperately.

Emma looked up at my voice then, taking in my no doubt desperate face. Don't leave me alone with this baby thing!

She sighed.

"Oh, fine," she grumbled. "but when Libby gets back, I'm defo hidin' again. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

"Mate, you seriously looked after my baby?" James asked in amazement.

"What? The girl loves me!" I said.

"Piss off, you did no such thing," James rolled his eyes.

"I swear to you, for one hour and twenty six minutes that girl was solely in my care, and I somehow didn't mess it up," I insisted. "Libby couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe it!"

"Yeah, well, I _really_ don't believe it," James eyed me with scrutiny.

"Mate, I'm your best friend, would I honestly fuck around with your infant daughter?"

"Fred, it's YOU."

"Good call, but I swear to you–"

"You know what?" James cut in, holding up a hand. "Maybe it's best we don't talk about it anymore. We can call this the incident of That One Time Fred Possibly Babysat, We're Still Not Sure."

"I'm sure," I grumbled.

"You know what I'm _not_ sure of?" James added, glancing around the fancy ballroom. "Whether this wedding is even bloody happening. Seriously, where the hell IS everyone?"

I glanced around the ballroom with him. Sure enough, it has happened, folks:

D-DAY HAS ARRIVED!

Let this forever be known as the day Rose and Scorpius got married! … if the groom in question EVER showed up to the fucking hotel, at least. I won't even pretend to have a clue what's going on. The Epitome Wizarding Hotel was a popular location for weddings apparently, located in Hyde Park, Central London. Generally hidden from the Muggles (they apparently thought it was an elaborate memorial statue), we'd had to walk a winding path through trees and around the huge fountain outside the front doors. The ballroom for the ceremony was decorated, the guests were all here, James was on standby with an innocent sleeping potion to knock out Clara for the ceremony, so in theory, everything should have been going swimmingly, even if I was wearing bloody dress robes again. But this is Rose and Scorpius. When the hell does anything go right for them?

If I knew anything about wedding traditions, it was that Scorpius really probably should've been here by now, seeing as the ceremony was about to start in like, ten minutes. But I was yet to see him at all today, along with Al or Uncle Ron. James held Clara in her little carrier thing, Libby obviously off being a bridesmaid and making sure that Rose didn't throw herself out a window with Bea's help. Aunt Hermione was here at least, greeting people with a strained sort of smile like secretly she was taking shots out of a hip-flask whenever she turned away. Actually, I wouldn't put that past her. Draco Malfoy was nowhere in sight, which didn't surprise me, and maybe it was the reason Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny were speaking in low tones in the corner, glancing out over the crowd every now and then with agitated concern.

Yeeeeah, something was definitely wrong. Last night had been the rehearsal dinner, which I don't recall much from, mainly because I turned up for the free food, hugged Rose and got the hell out of there. I doubt Rose even remembers the hug, seeing as she drank about three bottles of wine before throwing up over James' shoes and having to be taken home early. According to the endless amounts of family gossip, Scorpius apparently got into some huge fight with his dad at the dinner, which ended with Mr Malfoy storming off, yelling that he wasn't going to come to the wedding at all!

… we REALLY don't half do things in this family.

"You don't think that Mr Malfoy's really not going to come to the wedding, do you?" James asked fearfully.

"I dunno, he seemed pretty mad last night," I pointed out.

"How would you know? You were there for like five minutes, and four of those you spent shoving salmon crackers in your mouth," James scoffed.

"At least I wasn't shagging Libby in the bathrooms," I countered.

"HEY!" James pointed a finger at me. "I haven't had sex since Clara was born, and we NEARLY shagged in the bathrooms, ok?!"

"What does 'nearly' even mean?"

"It means that our daughter doesn't like it when we aren't paying attention," James sighed. "Clearly, she never wants me to have sex again."

"Eh, give it a few years."

"FRED," James gritted his teeth before plopping Clara's carrier at his feet and rubbing his face warily. "Good Merlin, I am so done … not only am I never gonna have sex again, if one more person tries to give me baby advice or asks me how old Clara is, I AM GOING TO FLIPPING LOSE IT!"

"Mate … I think you've already lost it."

"What are we going to do?"

"Well, for starters, we're gonna find someone else to watch that daughter of yours," I said, hastily picking the carrier up from the floor and glancing around. I caught the eye of Max Weasley, currently in the process of crawling underneath the chairs of the wedding guests. Sure, he was four years old and his usual form of entertainment was stealing food, but the kid was basically obsessed with Clara!"Hey, Max!" I called and the small one came scampering over.

"Youuuuu called?" he asked, immediately clinging onto the carrier and waggling a finger in front of the baby's face.

"Cheeky bugger," I grinned. "You wana play with Clara for a bit?"

"YEAAAHH!" Max cried at once. We settled them down gently in a corner of the ballroom where Max immediately started up a game of 'Trolls' (which basically just involved him stomping around her and roaring, but oh well, as long as they're entertained). James was watching with some trepidation, but the moment we had stepped back with a ruffle of Max's hair, he instantly looked a hundred pounds lighter.

"I think I'm a bad parent, Fred," he told me, unable to stop watching the children play.

"You think you're bad? Half the time I'll bet Victoire doesn't even know where the fuck her son is," I snorted.

James shot me a look, but was still agitated. "I should want to be with her, I should want to spend time with her, but Jesus Christ, Fred …"

"She's a baby! 'course she's exhausting," I said exasperatedly. "Hell, James, you're a first time father! You've been beating yourself up ever since she was born, so stop feeling so fucking guilty that you actually want to spend time with your partner as well as your baby, that's more than some people out there probably feel. It's ok to ask for help sometimes, _Merlin_ …"

James was looking at me with a kind of amazed look on his face, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what he needed to be told. True, I didn't know what it was like to feel the father's guilt that James was feeling, but I could at least do my damn best to understand it! I might be Fred Weasley, but maybe I know a little more than I claim to these days. I think James was trying to say thank you, so I just held up a hand and said, "Save it, mate. You're welcome."

He laughed, but about a second later, his eyes caught my watch on the wrist I'd held up. He grabbed at it and exclaimed,

"Oh my god, is that seriously the time?"

"What?"

"The wedding was supposed to have started by now!" James said as I tugged my wrist back to check the time as well.

"You don't … I dunno, think that Scorpius would've done a runner or something?"

"No way," James shot down the theory immediately.

"Well, I mean, everyone IS still betting on when he'll freak out and all," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but that dude loves Rose," James said firmly. "He wouldn't screw up his own wedding by bailing completely. Thing is, though, if Mr Malfoy said he wouldn't come … I can imagine Scorpius going after him."

Damn it, I could as well. It must've been hard enough only getting to have one parent at your wedding. But getting none? Astoria Malfoy passed away what must've been like four years ago now or something, but that shit sticks with you. I should know. My dad was living proof that you never really get over losing someone. Scorpius must have gone after his dad to convince him to come to the wedding. And if I knew Rose at all, she went after Scorpius. Pretty soon, Libby was going to turn up and start a stand-up comedy act to stall while Al and Bea argued over children in the background!

Actually, my theory didn't turn out to be so far off.

"Libby!" James called out, as the lovely bridesmaid turned up in her vintage floral dress. "Thank the lord – what in the hell is happening–?"

"No time!" Libby cut in. She kissed him spectacularly and suddenly, spending several moments clinging to his neck, before pulling back with a flourish and holding up her bouquet of flowers. "HI, EVERYONE!" she yelled and several faces turned towards her. "YES, please take your seats, I promise you this wedding is about to start! _You guys have got to stall this wedding_ ," she hissed.

James, on the other hand, was still staring at her. I think that kiss hit him hard.

"Meep," he said.

"Oh, for god's sake," Libby met his gaze exasperatedly, but turns out that _that_ was a mistake. Her look darkened, a flush spreading across her face and chest, while James appeared to be about to combust. Blimey, it was getting hot just watching them! Turn it the hell down guys, you're in fucking public. I wouldn't have been surprised if they leapt at each other right then and there and eventually, I couldn't take it anymore, so I coughed loudly and pointedly, making them jump.

"Ok, new plan," Libby said, her eyes barely leaving James' lips. "Fred, you stall."

"What the hell are you going to do?" I cried.

"I," Libby practically growled. "am going to take James home and fuck him senseless."

James squeaked.

"YOU'RE A BRIDESMAID," I felt the need to remind her.

"It has been a while, Fred, I am fairly certain we will be back in time."

"Oh, I give up," I rolled my eyes. "Go fuck already, I'll stall or do something here."

They literally did not need telling twice. They disapparated on the spot.

GREAT. Not only did I still have no idea what was going on, I had now somehow been roped into stalling this spectacle of a wedding! The Maid of Honour and Best Man weren't even fucking speaking, the bridesmaid had bailed to go get some, and the bride and groom have gone fucking AWOL, so naturally, the Weasley Family Drama Curse was doing a mighty fine job! I think I'm panicking slightly. All I wanted was to attend a wedding, I didn't want to be caught up in all of this! The message to sit down was spreading throughout the hall as confused and impatient guests started to take their seats. The Minister was talking concernedly to Aunt Hermione at the end of the aisle. I noticed Teddy and Victoire hastily looking for their son.

OH GOD, WHAT DO I DO.

"I'm fairly certain that's your panic face."

"HELP ME, EMMA," I hissed, suddenly leaping out as she walked past and dragging her towards me. I was still standing in the middle of the aisle as the last few stragglers started getting to their seats and the mumbling started to die down. Rose and Scorpius had been fairly ruthless in who they invited, but there were still a hell of a lot of people in here! "Please, I'm serious!"

"What is it? Isn't the wedding starting?" she asked.

I noticed that she had awkwardly pulled her hand back but at least she wasn't ignoring me. My heart was hammering and naturally, she had to go and wear some fucking stunning dress that showed off her amazing boobs but DAMNIT FRED, WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT. You can freak out over how hot she looks later!

"Emma, I literally need you to help me!"

"What's going on?"

" _I wish I fucking knew!_ "

"Calm down, mate," Emma hastily said. "Start from the beginning!"

"Look, the wedding was supposed to have started by now, but nobody is here!" I cried. "Rose and Scorpius are both missing, and Libby just turned up and asked me to stall without explaining! I don't know what's fucking happening and I apparently have to now try and convince all these people that everything is totally fine! WELL, IT'S NOT FUCKIN' FINE–"

"Oooookay," Emma cut in over me. "You know, Fred, I'm startin' to think I didn't quite know what I was getting myself into when I became associated with your family."

"That would be a fair assessment."

"But one of the things I've learned," she said, grabbing my elbow and beginning to haul me up the aisle. "is that sometimes when someone asks ya for a favour, you just gotta do it. Let's stall a wedding!"

* * *

Turns out that you have not lived until you have awkwardly tried to stall a wedding.

"Um, hiiii!" I ended up calling out as Emma and I stood and faced the crowd of curious and testy wedding guests. Several of Scorpius' family members exchanged looks, while my sister decided it would be funny to yell out, "SAYING YOUR VOWS, FRED?"

Fuck you, Roxie.

"For those who don't know, my name's Emma!" Emma thankfully took over, squeezing my elbow tightly, probably to keep me from doing something stupid. "I'm a friend of the bride and groom! This is Fred, cousin to the bride …"

She glanced up at me, apparently out of ideas.

" _That's all you've got?_ " I muttered.

" _Well, I don't know!_ "

" _Oh my god_ – so! Uhhh … you're all probably wondering when the wedding's going to start," I noticed Aunt Hermione shooting me crazy looks from several feet away while more mutters and for some reason, sniggers, started moving through the crowd. "Well, I'm pleased to tell ya all that it – it's starting! Yeeeep, definitely starting …"

"But not before we play a game!" Emma cried.

"A game?"

" _Yes_ – a game!" Emma insisted, hitting me rather savagely in the stomach. As I gasped for breath, she carried on, "We're – we're going to ask questions about Rose and Scorpius and whoever gets them right gets – um–"

"Sweets," I wheezed.

"A sweet!" Emma concluded triumphantly. I noticed several people were shaking their heads now, or laughing probably out of what had to be sheer embarrassment for us. Oh, yes, we were making idiots of ourselves up here! I glanced at my watch though, and it told me that we'd managed to hold off on this wedding for at least five minutes now, so we were getting somewhere. Merlin, how long would we have to do this for? I kept looking over at Aunt Hermione and asking her with my mind, but she just kept shrugging!

"First question – uh, when did they first get together?"

I don't think many people were taking this seriously, but naturally Lily threw her arm into the air.

"2022, nine years ago!" she cried.

"Blimey, really?" Emma said. "I mean – uh, correct! _Your turn_ ," she added in undertone to me.

I shot her a look. "Erm, next question: who asked out who first?"

I hoped that no one noticed that that had come out like I was unsure, because to be honest, the hell if I actually knew. It was starting to get uncomfortable having all these people watching and staring at us and I was at least grateful we had Lily in this audience playing along. Naturally, she practically jumped out of her seat and I called on her.

"Trick question!" she yelled. "Nobody got asked out, they just argued and snogged in front of everyone."

"Seriously, what kind of wedding did you lot sign up for?" Emma laughed and I stomped on her foot.

The weird questions continued for what felt like 78 years, seeing as neither of us actually knew any of the answers, and Lily basically answered them all. I hastily sidled over to Aunt Hermione at one point while Emma marvelled with Lily over the fact that apparently, it took Rose and Scorpius five and a half years before they ever actually did anything about how they felt.

"What the actual fuck is happeniiiiing …?" I'd warbled desperately at my aunt.

"The hell if I knoooow …" she'd said back in the same tone.

"Where's Uncle Ron? Hell, where are fucking Rose and Scorpius?"

"You watch your language, young man," Aunt Hermione shot me a chastising look. "but in answer, no one has seen Rose or Scorpius for hours now. Ron went to go find them, but I haven't heard from him! Also, what on earth are you and Rose's friend doing up there?"

"Stalling, apparently," I said. "C'mon, you're the mother of the bride! Aren't you meant to be doing something?"

"Watch me," She reached into her purse and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey.

"Holy shit, Aunt Hermione!"

"Want some?"

I just snorted and took a shot behind my aunt's back just as Emma started gesturing frantically for me to get back up there with her. I started to hand the whiskey back over, but Aunt Hermione said, "Keep it. Find Rose and Scorpius and drag them back here if you have to! I'll help stall – her name is Emma, right?"

"That's the one – I'm on it, Aunt Hermione!" I saluted her with the whiskey.

Emma was hissing my name, but I let Aunt Hermione sweep in. Emma looked a little intimidated to suddenly have The Hermione Weasley descending upon her, but I had bigger things to worry about. First order of business: FIND ROSE AND SCORPIUS. If the first order doesn't pan out, then the second is: FIND SOMEONE WHO CAN.

Turns out that I didn't even need to worry.

I found them screaming outside the hotel.

I could hear the voices yelling all the way from the lobby. Blimey, how did we all miss this inside the ballroom? It sounded like someone was being murdered! I sighed as I jogged across the lobby, wondering how in god's name I was supposed to defuse this. Wasn't it Al or Bea's job to get them to stop fighting? I guess they were too busy right now arguing with each other, but I don't know how Rose and Scorpius worked! I slowed down to avoid plunging straight through the glass front doors, and that was when I realised that there was actually more than voice yelling outside, and to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure anymore that it was even Rose and Scorpius yelling at each other. They were definitely out there, but they sounded like they were on the same side, which would be a first. I couldn't tell anything that was being said apart from a few choice words,

"… tell me …"

"… fuck you! …"

"… sorry that …"

I kicked open the doors like I was a cowboy.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

Down the few steps that led up to where I was standing demanding answers, several people turned to stare at me in surprise. I immediately zeroed in on my cousin and sighed in relief in that she was in her wedding dress and seemed mightily pissed off that she wasn't currently getting married in it. She looked fucking gorgeous, although a bit red in the face. Scorpius was at her side, Rose's hand currently holding him on the forearm, although whether it was to hold him back or protect him, I couldn't be sure. Apparently, he was in the middle of yelling at his father, who in turn was being yelled at by Uncle Ron, and in amongst ALL of this carnage, was Al and Bea a couple of feet away, currently sobbing into each other's arms.

Fucking YIKES.

"Uhhh …" I think I regretted this now. "I mean … this wedding was supposed to start like, a half hour ago, sooooo …"

"SEE!" Uncle Ron roared at Draco Malfoy. "Haven't you already fucked up enough?!"

"DAD!" Rose yelled as Mr Malfoy opened his mouth to retaliate. "That's it, this has gone WAY too far! Suck it up and face it, that man is coming to this wedding whether you like it or not, because he is my husband-to-be's father, and I don't care if you hate him! Hell, I hate him sometimes! SORRY!" she tacked that on at the end to Mr Malfoy, not sounding the least bit sorry at all.

"Rosie–"

"OHHHH, HELL TO THE NO! NO ONE IS BLOODY 'ROSIE'ING ME RIGHT NOW!" Rose screeched like a pterodactyl. "I love you Dad, you know I love you and your ridiculous face more than anything, but right now, you're being an arsehole! Mr Malfoy!" She turned abruptly to Scorpius' dad, who I think actually cringed. "Draco, my buddy, ol' pal, I don't give a shit about your inner turmoil either! You sort it later because your son is getting married today and he needs you to be there! You're literally all each other has left, because let's face it, the rest of the Malfoy's are all complete screwballs, so step it up and BE THERE! GOD!"

For the record, I still have no bloody clue what's happening.

Rose took a deep breath then, before letting it out. She glanced up at me, moving her hand down Scorpius' arm to squeeze his fingers tightly. "Hey, Fred," she said with a smile. "Can you believe this shit, huh?"

"I … um, I mean, Emma's stalling …"

Rose actually laughed. "God, I love you," she said. "We're coming now, don't worry. Just … one more thing."

She turned to Al and Bea, who hadn't moved this entire time (and this moment I think was slowly starting to become the most bizarre of my life, which was saying something). I hadn't really noticed anything about Al and Bea beyond the fact that they were crying, but now that I actually watched them, I found that it was incredibly uncomfortable to see, yet also incredibly difficult to look away. They didn't just cry, they _clung_ to each other. Al's fingers were raking down her back, like he was trying to hold her impossibly tighter, Bea's face hidden in his neck. Rose approached them with a similar gutted look and I knew instantly that James' predictions of something else being wrong were totally right. It looked like Al and Bea were … hell, it looked like they were grieving.

Rose reached up and gently touched them. "Hey," she said softly and suddenly, I didn't really want to know if I should be hearing this. Apparently Uncle Ron and Mr Malfoy felt the same (for a change), as they had both warily exchanged glances and started making their way up the steps for the hotel. Scorpius was waiting silently. Rose's best friends had both moved at her touch, pulling back slightly to look at her as she spoke, both faces red and broken.

"Al, Bea …" Rose sighed. "Look, I know. But I love you both so much, and I know how much you love each other. I've been there every step of the way, and I'll be there for this too. Think you can come watch me get married?"

Bea sniffed before answering, "Of course."

"… do I even want to fucking know?" I asked Scorpius uncertainly as behind us, Rose hugged Bea tightly for several moments, before moving onto Al.

" _Mate_ …" Scorpius just said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Look, is there going to be a wedding or what?" Mr Malfoy called out loudly from the front doors, and Uncle Ron shoved him in response. "What?" he complained.

Rose had let go of Al and just threw her future father-in-law a roll of her eyes. "Mr Malfoy, you never cease to amaze me. C'mon," she looked at Scorpius and held her hand out to him once more. "let's get married–"

 _Boom_.

No, that sound wasn't the sound of anyone's heart shattering, which at this point I figured could be totally plausible. Nope, it was an honest to god explosion! Before anyone could say anything more, the doors to the lobby had suddenly rattled and cracked, the ground shaking and ears popping as something deep inside clearly went kaboom. We all cringed, ducked and Rose slipped on a step, causing Scorpius to hastily grab her. Uncle Ron looked like he wanted to hit the ground and even Al and Bea were pulling themselves together, wiping their faces as we all stared up at the hotel in shock.

"What in the hell?" Mr Malfoy voiced aloud the thought we were all thinking.

* * *

A/N: I know. I KNOW. I wish I didn't have to force Al and Bea through anything, but at the same time I also really needed to. Bless them, they've been together many many years, and it was time they tackled something together. I needed to know that no matter what was thrown at them, they would survive. AND THEY WILL. They love each other so much and they will fucking get through it together, I promise.

As for WHAT exactly it is they're going through, I promise you that you'll find out. I don't know how/when yet, but you will. Hell, you can maybe(probably?) guess? But I've decided the Rosie POV Wedding Story (as it's currently called) will be Bea's POV as well (!) so you WILL hear their full story eventually. :)

In other news, I hit 100 reviews on this thing and I freaked out about it.

THANK YOU! This, you guys and this entire universe means the fucking world to me, seriously. The Fred Idiot-ness ranged anywhere last chapter from 3-7, but averaged about 4? Which is fair. WHAT IS IT THIS TIMEEEE? PLEASE TELL MEEE!

I LOVE Y'ALL.

\- Moon. xox

PS. Fred Idiot Scale (For Reference):

1 - only mostly in pain  
2 - why are you such a douchecanoe  
3 - do you even have a fucking brain  
4 - I hate you  
5 - arrrgHHH#VN&$%GNU  
6 - dude. dUDE.  
7 - What. The. Fuck.  
8 - I can't even  
9 - send help  
10 - SET ME ON FUCKING FIREEEE


	13. That one time we finally got a wedding

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 13: That one time we finally got a wedding.

That was when the fire alarm suddenly went off.

WEEEEOOOOO. WEEEEOOOOO.

 _Please exit the building from your nearest fire exit … please exit the building from_ …

"Oh my god, what …" Rose stared at the hotel in shock as people suddenly started pouring out the front doors. I stumbled back hastily as feet thundered and wedding guests shrieked. Hotel staff tried to keep panic at bay, but there was a lot of arm waving and running as everyone started flooding outside around the hotel. I noticed several staff members were apparently reluctant fire wardens, since they had hastily donned fluorescent orange jackets and made their wands glow in a 'this way!' formation. You'd think no one had ever run a fire drill before!

I glanced over at my family. Rose was aghast, as people kept on spilling out the front doors.

"But … what about our wedding?" she kept saying.

"Hang on, we don't know what's happened–" Scorpius began, but Rose just moaned and hid her face in his shoulder.

" _Whyyyy_?" she cried. "I am a mostly good person! WHYYYY?"

Meanwhile, Al and Bea were still behind us. They weren't crying anymore, but they stuck almost possesively close to each other, arms around waists and fingers clutching at clothes as the stampeding crowd jostled around them. Jesus, what had happened to them? I side-stepped hastily around all the people until I was close enough to Rose and Scorpius.

"UM …" I began. "So, like, are Al and Bea gonna be ok orrrr …?"

"Oh, Fred," Rose looked back up with a deep sigh and at least a smile. "Thanks for still being you, even when shit's going down."

"It's the fucking Weasley family, if you can't hold your own in a crisis, there's no hope," I shrugged. " _Seriously_ , I don't think I wanna know what happened, but are they ok?"

"They're Al and Bea," Rose said. "Of course they're going to be ok."

I was willing to accept that as an answer for now, especially since the last of those who had been inside the hotel were starting to trail out. On the plus side, it appeared that despite the alarm going off, the hotel didn't seem to actually be in any immediate danger of fire! Instead of windows blowing out and the walls going up in flames, the hotel looked … basically the same. We'd all heard a boom though, so clearly SOMETHIN' happened, and I started to get a feeling of what it might've been when I noticed Max running through legs and screaming,

"IT WASN'T MY FAULT! IT WASN'T MY FAULT!"

I leapt out as he ran past me and scooped him up around the waist before he could get any further. He continued to try and run in mid-air, his hair changing colour almost with every word. "IT WASN'T MY FAULT!"

"Max, what wasn't your fault?"

"I DIDN'T DO IT, I SWEAR, UNCLE FRED!" Max cried, kicking under my arm, but I refused to put him down.

"MAX!" Victoire came tearing into view, the baby carrier with a hysterically crying Clara in it held over one arm. My older cousin looked fit to kill, which apparently Max recognised.

"MUM, I DIDN'T DO IT!" Max yelled. "IT WAS CLARA, IT WAS CLARA!"

"Clara is a baby, Max. A BABY. So you are still going to tell me what you did right now!" Victoire yelled.

"WELL. This is just bloody perfect," Mr Malfoy put in there dramatically. Oh, right, I'd forgotten about him! It's starting to get hard to keep track of everything. Literally everyone rounded on him then, but he seemed to notice the bazillion instantly hostile faces and hastily held out a hand to defend himself. "Hey, don't go off at me again! I'll attend this bloody wedding, if it ever ends up actually happening, but I'm just saying …"

"Typical Weasley, huh?" Scorpius grinned at his father.

Rose smacked Scorpius on the chest as Mr Malfoy agreed with his son.

"I SWEAR I DIDN'T DO IT!" Max was still screaming from under my arm.

I noticed in the background that the Minister for Rose and Scorpius' wedding was talking bemusedly to the hotel manager, who was in turn yelling exasperatedly down the magical intercom in his ear. Yeah, we'd better get the Magical Fire Department down here, because with Max's magic, lord only knew what the hotel was burning with! The place may be structurally sound now, but in a few minutes, we may find the entire thing disintegrating, who knew? Several family members of ours seemed to have noticed the scene happening up here by the front doors and I caught Aunt Hermione's eye. I pulled her whiskey out of my pocket and waved it in the air mouthing, "I found them!"

She laughed. I love my aunt.

Finally, it was then that the dynamic parents themselves showed up and to say they were throwing a fit was a fucking understatement.

"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?"

"CLARAAAAA!"

James and Libby came tearing into the middle of everything with nothing but pure panic on their faces. For god's sake, you two. So they finally decide to turn up once everything's already gone down with a strap of Libby's dress off her shoulder and James' shirt still untucked? I WILL MURDER THEM. For a second though they faltered as they apparently took in the scene in front of them, me with Max under my arm, a load of people yelling and panicking, Al and Bea both still clinging to each other, Victoire with their screaming baby daughter and behind us all, the hotel that could potentially go up in flames.

This was such a classic Weasley.

"What the hell?" James wondered out loud. Then, he shook his head and said, "Wait – SHIT, Clara!" both him and Libby practically diving at Victoire for their baby. Victoire happily handed her over before moving towards me.

"NOOOO, MUM!" Max howled and he grabbed tight onto me in his attempt to not let his mother get her hands on him.

"Oh, hey Fred," Victoire said pleasantly in the middle of prising the little arms off me.

"Hey," I answered conversationally.

"Lovely day, huh?"

"Oh yes, quite."

Finally, Victoire managed to pull Max off me just as Rose yelled out, "CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE?"

"As near as we can tell, some form of _Confringo_ charm hit one of the tables inside the ballroom and set the fire alarms off," Aunt Hermione put in, moving forward with Uncle Harry not far behind (along with several of our cousins, friends and curious extended family members and random bystanders/hotel guests. Because our family is the real show here, of course). I noticed that she had not so subtly placed herself in between her husband and Mr Malfoy, as if they wouldn't dare keep arguing with each other as long as she was there. I know I wouldn't. "Honestly, Rose, it gave us all a fright, more than anything."

"IT WASN'T ME!" Max screamed once more.

"Excuse me, young man, but you are going to own up for your actions!" Victoire demanded.

"But MUM, I SWEAR it wasn't me!" Max complained, stomping his foot as his mother held onto his hand to prevent him escaping. "It was Clara! We were just playing, but I accidentally scared her and she cried and then the table just went BOOM!"

James and Libby had been trying to hastily calm their daughter down, having picked her up out of the carrier and Libby now holding her close to her chest and whispering soothingly to her. Now, they both turned to face Max with half awed, half indignant expressions.

"Look, Max," James bent down on one knee in front of the little boy. "The thing is, Clara is still just a baby. She's only five weeks old. Her brain's a little too small to do magic yet."

"But I swear it was her!" Max protested.

"Hey, it's ok," Victoire added, bending down next to James. "Max, it's hard to control magic, I get it. I understand. If it was your fault, we don't blame you. We just want you to take responsibility for your actions. Remember how we talked about that and not blaming other people?"

"BUT I SWEAR!"

I got the feeling that we might never know for sure who was the one responsible for setting off the alarms and causing a hotel-wide emergency fire drill. While Max was kind of known for pointing the finger, he kept swearing until he was blue in the face that baby Clara was the one who caused it, so I mean, it could've been anyone! The next half an hour or so was naturally spent trying to calm the chaos as the fire department showed up, magically reinforced red robes on and wands in hand as they delved inside the building. Luckily, they reappeared fairly quickly with amused looks and a thankfully positive report.

"Quite honestly, the only damage that's been done is some burn scarring on the wooden floors," one of the fire fighters told the hotel manager, Minister, and Rose and Scorpius. "It was an isolated incident, definitely uncontrolled magic from a child, we get fairly common call-outs like this all the time. It's totally safe to re-enter the building, and your wedding can go ahead as planned."

Rose was so happy that she swore spectacularly in relief, causing the Minister to apologise for her hastily and the fire fighter to laugh. Thank the lord, we could start getting this show on the road! Everyone started swarming back inside the hotel, Max still being towed along by his mother and James and Libby carrying Clara and saying something along the lines of,

"We are very bad parents, Libby …"

Yeeep, I could've told you that, mate.

I accidentally caught Emma's eye amongst the moving crowd. I hadn't been planning on it, I had just looked up and realised that she was the one I was seeing. She looked kind of amusedly overwhelmed and silently, we made our way towards each other without really thinking about it. "Blimey," she mentioned lightly once I could hear her.

"You can say that again."

"So what's happenin' now?"

"Guess we finally attend a wedding?" I said, the two of us shuffling along with the crowd of people filing back inside. "To summarise, Rose and Scorpius look like they're about to kill a small animal or two, so I think the sooner we get them down the aisle the better. James and Libby were too busy shagging each other when the fire alarm went off, Mr Malfoy has apparently come to his senses, and Al and Bea are … I don't even know," I glanced back over my shoulder and Emma followed suit. The couple had apparently decided to basically fuck everyone and weren't even moving. They stood in the same spot as before, now holding hands and quietly talking to each other. Though both of them still had tears staining their faces, at least they weren't still crying.

"Yeah, what's goin' on with them?" Emma asked in concern.

"I dunno what happened exactly," I told her. "Buuuut, I think it's obvious that Bea tried to push Al away for some particular reason. Didn't work though, because they're obviously still in love and shit. I mean, look at 'em!"

"Thank Merlin," Emma smiled at least. "I literally could not have stalled that wedding for much longer!"

"There's a point, _thank you so much_ , holy shit," I had to pause for a moment as we crossed into the lobby of the hotel. Everyone was moving back into the ballroom, guests getting back to their rooms and stressed staff members stripping off their fluorescent jackets and using them to wipe their foreheads. I reached out and grabbed Emma's arm without even thinking about it, pulling her to the side. "I had no idea what to do, you literally saved my arse!"

"That's what I'm here for," Emma laughed. "You're welcome."

"You look hot, by the way."

Emma failed to supress a grin.

And you know how this day promised a wedding? Well, we eventually got one! It took several delayed moments to try and re-sort everything, get everyone in position and seated and the children as calm as possible so that were weren't all forced into yet another emergency evacuation, but soon, Rose was finally walking down that aisle. I was sat next to James with Clara completely zonked out in her carrier at his feet ("Sleeeeep, sleeeep my prettyyyy …" he had whispered) and somehow ended up with Emma on my other side. Yeeeah, let's just not talk about that for a while. I couldn't imagine Mr Malfoy getting over his gruffness any time soon, because let's face it, that bloke will always not like us for SOME reason. But he still sat at the front of that ballroom, watching his son with an awed and wistful expression which I think was equal parts pride in his son and bitterness that his late wife wasn't also there to witness it.

Aunt Hermione looked like she would have downed her bottle of whiskey in triumph if I still wasn't holding onto it, while Uncle Ron next to her grinned as he watched. Up there with them, Al and Bea often gazed at each other across the aisle, like they were having some silent conversation, their eyes still red, but being able to put aside all that was going on with them to be there for Rose and Scorpius.

And look, I don't really care all that much for weddings, ok? In my opinion, they are just big elaborate parties to flaunt the concept of 'true love' which, at the end of the day, probably doesn't even exist. I don't like the idea of ever getting married, but you can't fucking tell other people what to do amiright? No matter how much I wouldn't want a wedding of my own, Rose and Scorpius' was goddamned beautiful and I sat through every second of it happy for them and all that shit.

"Rose and Scorpius have prepared their own vows today," the Minister said delightfully at one point. "Scorpius, please proceed first with your ring.

Al quickly dug in his pocket and handed a ring to Scorpius, who fumbled the pass slightly. He looked straight at Rose for a good twenty seconds. "I wrote something down, I swear I did!" he insisted and Rose snorted. He took a deep breath before he started talking, his words strong and determined. It was like he'd spent several hours making sure he knew exactly what it was he wanted to say.

"No one can tell us we're normal, Rose. I think today kind of proved that – but we've also got something incredible. We always have, ever since we first met. Every second of every day, it's there and I feel it. I still remember the first time I ever told you I loved you," He smirked at her and Rose rolled her eyes. "I promise you I will always feel that slap! We might've been young, but I didn't mean it any less back then, and I certainly don't now. I know I've messed up a lot over the years, and you've messed up too, but we're actually rather good at that now. So … let's get married, and we can keep messing up together."

You would never guess that this was the same 16-year-old James and I once threw paint on as a prank to initiate him as an honorary Weasley. Rose let him slide the ring onto her finger, her eyes blazing. She then reached back and took her ring from Bea to give to Scorpius. She took a breath.

"Why do we choose the things we do, Scorpius? Why did I choose you?" she began. "Because it certainly wasn't a rational decision! It wasn't the easy thing or the smartest thing, but I still looked you straight in the eye when I was 16 and thought 'yep, this is the boy I want to be with'! For a while, I thought choosing you was the worst decision I'd ever made, but I was wrong," Rose was definitely trying her hardest not to cry now. "Absolutely wrong. We fight a lot and we get mad at each other, but turns out that it was the best decision I have ever made because despite all that, we're still standing here today. We've made a lot of mistakes and made a lot of wrong choices over the years, but this … this is us finally getting it right."

And then they snogged, the Minister hastily pronounced them husband and wife, woohoo, everyone's married, THE END.

* * *

Well, not the end, but you get my point.

There was the usual big parade of people milling around outside the venue for ages, like you usually get after weddings. Everyone wants to congratulate the bride and groom when you can tell that all they wanna do is drag each other off into bed to make wild married love (or whatever). I didn't even bother. Hell, I'd see them at some point in the future, I'd congratulate them later! Another thing I forgot was that the reception wasn't until much later in the day, so that there was time for the bridal party to go off and take photos and whatever else shit that they do. Therefore, I was yelled at by Lily (a crazy cousin if there ever was one) that we were all gonna hang together as a family at the Burrow before all heading out to the reception.

"You sure that's a good idea, Lily?" I mentioned.

"Hey, we survived Rose and Scorpius' wedding!" she grinned. "I've waited too long to see this day."

"Yeah, thanks for helping me stall, by the way."

"Oh, you mean your weird question game?" Lily snorted. "Yeah, you're welcome. Let's face it though, no one else was going to get those questions right. You so owe me – HOOOOLY SHIT, EMMA!" she suddenly gasped and shrieked, glancing at someone behind me. I looked over my shoulder, only to have my little cousin go barrelling past me. "GIRL, BRING IT IN!"

"Lily!" Emma looked more than a little surprised to have Lily Potter suddenly throwing herself at her, but she rolled with it. I didn't have any clue whatsoever that the two even knew each other before now! I watched in bemusement as Emma continued,

"It's great to see ya again! How're you?"

"Trust me, you couldn't find me happier!" Lily grinned. "I've been betting on Rose and Scorpius since they were INFANTS. You know, back in the ye olde days when they would pull each other's hair and ask, 'what is a feelings and how do I stop it'."

Emma laughed, before Lily glanced back at me. "Guess I don't have to introduce you guys, right?" she smirked.

"I hate you, Lily."

"Whenever he hates, it's actually him spreading positivity around the world," Lily pointed out seriously. "Don't worry, girl, you get used to it."

"Oh, I'm learning," Emma smirked.

"For Merlin's sake – how do YOU guys know each other?" I said exasperatedly.

"Turns out we dated the same loser," Lily shrugged.

That threw me a loop. Lily couldn't have been talking about anyone else other than Mark the Fucking Dickhead, because before Mark she was an idealistic teenager and after Mark she simply had a string of ex-lovers scattered across the globe as she travelled. Lily had been my kinda gal! Course when she moved back to London she brought some foreign man-friend along with her, but at a raw level, Lily and I saw eye to eye. But Emma … the only ex I was vaguely aware of was the one she mentioned off-handly last year. The one who had emotionally abused and cheated on her.

If it turned out that he was Mark the Fucking Dickhead AS WELL, then there was going to be a special place in hell for him.

"Yeah, and we seriously need to hang out!" Emma added, Lily turning back to her.

"Oh my god, yes! Are you coming to the reception later?"

"Afraid not, but are you free any lunchtime this coming week?"

"Usually Wednesdays – I'll get your address off Libby or something and let you know–"

"Good, this NEEDS to happen!"

"Emma, you're bloody awesome, we will definitely catch up then," Lily grinned. She slapped Emma a high-five, before adding to me, "Fred, this girl's a catch. Don't let her out of your sight! Now, I'm gonna go see if I can get my thirty seconds of congrats time with Rosie, see you later!" Lily quickly darted off.

"… she leaves a rather large whirlwind of carnage wherever she goes," I said hastily.

"I'm starting to learn," Emma grinned.

"Did you seriously date the same bloke?"

"Unfortunately," Emma sighed. "We found out by accident, but these things tend to bond people."

"What, just by getting screwed over by the same person?"

Emma snorted at me. "You've clearly never been screwed over before."

"I never let anyone get a chance to," I was quick to defend myself.

"Right, of course," Emma said. We both glanced up then to see that Lily had managed to get a moment with Rose. The two were hugging fiercely, and I'm fairly certain that either one or both of them was definitely crying. "Well, despite the emergency fire drill, that wedding was beautiful. I'm seriously starting to wish that I'd known you guys while we were all still at school."

"Ohhhh, no you don't," I scoffed.

"Well," she folded her arms with a smirk. "maybe I don't wish I'd known you."

"Am I allowed to be offended by that?"

"Would you have even noticed that I existed?" Emma asked.

"I think you're trying to ask me if I was one of the cool kids," I pointed out.

"Well, were you?"

"I liked to think I was," I admitted. "In reality, I was probably one of those annoying arseholes everyone pretends to like because they have connections to someone cooler. I was a douchebag in school."

"So really, not much different then."

"Oi!" I said and she smirked. "Just be thankful you didn't have to grow up listening to Rose complain about Scorpius 24/7. Thank the bloody lord that they're married now, at least they deserve it."

Emma glanced at me weirdly. "Fred … I think you're being sentimental. It's actually startin' to creep me out."

"If it makes you feel better, I can say 'fuck marriage'," I suggested.

"It helps slightly."

"Well, FUCK MARRIAGE."

Emma burst out laughing, which I tried not to feel too pleased about. I didn't know where this natural conversation was even coming from. Babysitting baby Clara together seemed to have sparked this weird new level where we don't sleep together, but apparently talk a lot. I didn't know if life was playing me, I didn't even know if I liked it, but Emma was incredible when she laughed and I realised that I kind of wanted to keep making her do it. Maybe it was another RIDICULOUSLY BAD IDEA™ but I'd said that I needed to get a new tactic, right?

Right.

"Emma, what are we doing?"

"Talking, as far as I was aware."

"Yeah, but," I tried to avoid looking at her, but she was obviously still wearing that dress and FUCK THAT DRESS. It was a deep blue, and maybe I could tell you more about it if I was paying literally _any_ attention, but quite honestly all I could do was think about how great her boobs looked in it. DAMN, her boobs. And I know these thoughts don't exactly scream 'I'm over this chick' but look, I'm trying, ok? That's what counts!

I'M FUCKING TRYING.

"Emma," I sighed. "Us talking isn't helping me in dutifully ignoring you."

"Well, who says I wanna ignore you anymore?"

I glanced at her (face) quickly and she suddenly seemed to know what she wanted to say. Or maybe what I wanted to say, but couldn't quite figure out the words yet. "Ok. Let's be real for a moment here," she said, watching me closely. "Y'know how sometimes you meet someone and it's a literal struggle to try and find somethin' to say to them? Like, they're a nice enough person, they're actually probably really cool, but shit, conversation with them is just so damn difficult?" She paused, though I don't think she expected me to answer. I stayed silent and sure enough, she ploughed on. "Then, you meet some people where the connection is instant. It's suddenly alight. You never have to struggle to think of something to say, and you know you've just made a new BFF. Friends are hard to get at this point in our lives and damn it, I want one! Despite everything, you have never difficult to talk to. You are my Bonehead and we have something. I want to keep it."

I stared at her. I knew exactly of the feeling she spoke about. Ever since I'd met her, I'd struggled with never initiating actual conversation, because I think I knew that if I did, it would be like falling down a hole. NO GETTING OUT. Naturally, I'd failed miserably at this several times, so all things considered, I was probably already in that hole, right? It was never hard to talk to Emma, just like it was never hard to talk to Libby or James. We fit. But the thought of not struggling against it anymore, of actually letting myself talk to her and get to know her properly was utterly terrifying! My uncertainty must've been written all over my face, because Emma's expression had softened slightly.

"I mean," she shrugged. "The last couple of months have proven that we're still gonna keep runnin' into each other. So we might as well do our best to not make it as awkward as possible, right?"

"So we'll be … friends?" I tried not to sound like I was choking.

"Well," Emma folded her arms across her chest. _Face, face, keep looking at her fucking face_. "we won't be whatever the hell it is we are now, at any rate."

My throat had constricted to the point where I could barely breathe anymore, but I managed to shrug casually in agreement. I AM SCREAMING, hooooooly shit! It was time to try literally anything else, but I've honestly never done this before! NEVER. Emma was smiling back at me and kicking a heel into the ground and fuck me, but I think I'm gonna do it.

I'm gonna be her friend.

"So are you seriously still not coming to the reception?"

"Nah, it's fine," Emma told me. "I got other stuff I need to get to, anyway. But I'll see ya around, yeah?"

I finally managed to grin back at her. "Yeah. I'll see you."

* * *

The wedding reception was a fucking riot.

I mean, it's Rose and Scorpius, so I probably should've expected it! After chillin' with the cousins for a bit at the Burrow, eating Grandma Molly's cooking and making fun of each other, we'd all eventually donned our shoes and jackets once more to head on back down to the hotel. To cut on costs, Rose had apparently opted to just use the same ballroom, only in our time away it had been transformed into the ultimate explosion of celebration! I mean, so long as there was booze, I was happy. Everybody clapped and cheered for Rose and Scorpius as they arrived, we ate dinner together, and Lily did a fucking hilarious job of MC-ing for the night.

"No, no, IT WAS YOU, don't deny it!" Rose was eventually yelling over cake.

Look, I wasn't even at the same table as them and they still argued loud enough for the whole hall to hear. I mean, you couldn't get much more Rose and Scorpius than that. It seemed that someone had asked the newlyweds which one of them had fallen for the other first (a question that apparently, Emma and I had not thought to ask during our weird stalling game earlier in the day).

Instantly, it had sparked a war.

"C'mon," Scorpius snorted back at her. They sat next to each other at the round table, the wedding party and parents taking up the rest of the room. However, there were also several others hanging around, having dragged over extra chairs and leaning against shoulders in order to listen. I was just chewing my cake and rolling my eyes. "the only reason you claim that you 'don't know' when you fell for me just indicates that you DO know and don't want to tell me."

"I swear, I honestly don't!"

"Mmm-hmm, sure. You fell for me first, didn't you?"

"YOU were thirteen!"

"Yeah, and you still fell for me first, right?"

" _Scorpius_ –"

"Jesus, are we sure that you guys got married today?" Lily snorted.

"Lily!" Rose quickly leaped out and grabbed our younger cousin's arm a couple seats over, who suddenly looked like she really didn't want to be dragged into this. "You would know, you've always known everything! Who was into who first? Me or Scorpius?"

Lily stared at the two, Rose with her desperate expression and Scorpius subtly pointing to his new wife, mouthing, "Her! Her!" Then, Lily said,

"Sorry, Scorpius."

"What? Nooo!" he complained. "Lily!"

"YES!" Rose cried, leaning back and punching the air.

"I'm sorry, but Rose is right, you were totally into her first," Lily just shrugged, shovelling another mouthful of cake as she did so. "I don't think Rosie _really_ started thinking of you that way until you went out with Lucy."

"Thanks for bringing that up," one of Scorpius' friends, Lucy Harley, snorted into her own cake as she walked past the table. Look, literally all my information about the girl comes from Rose, so the only way I could possibly describe Lucy Harley was, 'what a bitch'. I know. But hey, she still came to the wedding, despite everything! Scorpius was laughing with her as Rose threw Lily a similar look to Harley that said _I really didn't need reminding of that_. But then Scorpius seemed to remember something and added,

"But wait, third-year! Rose went out with Trevor just to spite me."

"I think I was more interested in just making you suffer," Rose smirked. "Although the jealousy was a nice side-effect. Sorry, Trev!" she added in a yell across the ballroom. Trevor, not even hearing this exchange, still glanced up and saluted her anyway over his cake.

"Exactly!" Lily pointed out. "So sorry, but you liked her first."

"This is the worst day of my life," Scorpius grumbled, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms in a huff.

Rose just laughed. "No, it's not," she said, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek.

"No, it's not …" Scorpius added, fondly.

There were speeches and toasts which honestly I don't remember much of because I'd gotten bored listening halfway through (I'm sorry Uncle Ron, but you shouldn't be given undivided attention when you've had that much wine). But Al eventually stepped up as the best man, and it stuck with me. He looked a little pale and he stumbled slightly over his words, because seriously, who ever does well talking in front of hundreds of people? The limelight had always been more of James or Lily's territory than Al's.

But he spoke volumes.

"Um … Hello. My name is Al, for those of you who haven't met me. I'm the best man, but I've known the bride ever since I was born, so I didn't really know who to write this speech for …" Al glanced down at the crumpled and smudged notes in his hands. He sighed before glancing back up again. "Love isn't easy. Love is difficult, painful and sometimes, love isn't enough. But Rose and Scorpius remind me of why we all still do it. Because sometimes, you luck out and you manage to find that person where suddenly, love is everything you could have ever needed … I'm married myself," he added, his voice shaking. I glanced over, wanting to see where Bea was, but her back was unfortunately facing me. Rose had an arm around her waist next to her. "and it was the best day of my life. I don't regret a single thing and I never would, never could … because she's it for me," His eyes were shining. "Just like Rose and Scorpius are it for each other. Um, to those two!" Al cracked a grin and raised his glass. "They're a bit of a mess, but I love them both. Congrats guys, I can't believe we finally made it here."

WOW.

"Ouch – Fred!" my sister complained when I accidentally stood on her foot in my haste to dart forward.

"Not sorry, I've gotta see this!"

"See what?" Roxanne ran after me. Al was stepping down from the small stage and making his way back over to the newlyweds. I could see Bea's face now and it was streaming with silent tears. Al dumped his glass onto the nearest table as he strode straight up to her. Rose smiled and shoved Bea forward just in time for Al to gather her face in his hands and kiss her fiercely.

"Huh …" Roxanne leaned an elbow on my shoulder as we watched them, Bea clinging to Al's arms and kissing him back through the tears.

"Well, I mean, that shit is beautiful," I pointed out to her.

So I know you all think of me as a cynical bastard by this point, but I'll have you know that I had a bloody fantastic time at that reception! Finally after the speeches, we broke into the dancing, and Rose's friend, Sophie insisted that she had to toss the bouquet at one point. "Nooo, Sophie, you're not serious–" Rose complained, but she did anyway, I think just because nobody could ever say no to Sophie. Uncle Ron ended up catching it with his face though, if that says anything, causing him to splutter and gasp as his drink spilled over him. Roxanne had grabbed me and pulled me after her onto the dance floor, so I decided to humour her for a bit.

"Didn't you bring your boyfriend with you?" I asked, not bothering to clarify which one exactly it was. I'd never see him again after today anyway.

"Oh, yeah, he's somewhere," Roxanne waved a hand casually behind her, using the other to spin under my arm. "I don't think he's quite marriage material though, he's totally ignored me most of dinner!"

"Douchebag," I noted.

Roxanne grinned. "Aw, bro. I also noticed you and Emma doing your comedy act before the wedding started, of course! What the fuck was happening there, huh?"

"I panicked! We were asked to stall, we had to do something."

"So how come she isn't here tonight?"

"Said she couldn't, she wasn't technically invited."

"Fuck that," Roxanne scoffed. "Rose and Scorpius wouldn't have cared! In fact, I'm fairly certain they'd happily throw out Scorpius' crazy Uncle Greg in favour of her."

"Hey, now, just because the bloke eats plants," I smirked.

"And curtains, and glass and small children," Roxanne laughed.

"Ok, so maybe Emma definitely would've been better company."

"And apparently you're talking againnnnnn …"

"Jesus, Roxie," I rolled my eyes. "Would you shut up?"

Fortunately, there was a loud cheer right then as a hugely popular song came on. Everyone surged onto the dance floor and in amongst it all, Roxanne got distracted. Another one of our cousins called out to her then and I was quickly ditched by my sister. Thanks for nothing, Roxie. I think Rose noticed that I'd been left in the wayside, since she was quick to suddenly sweep into my arms, hugging me enthusiastically to the song in the background.

"Rosie!" I exclaimed. "Blimey – give a bloke some warning–"

She just laughed at me, keeping her arms around me but pulling back so we could dance together. "So my wedding didn't send you running away screaming then," she said brightly.

"Nah, I mean, I figured I could stick around and watch at least," I snorted.

She grinned. Merlin, I don't think I'd ever seen my little cousin so happy before. "I got married today, Fred! MARRIED!"

"I'm kind of aware."

" _MARRIED_ – oh and thank you for stalling," she added. "All things considered, it turned out quite well!"

"You nearly didn't turn up for your own wedding."

"Yeah, but the keyword is nearly!" Rose pointed out, happily. "Lily told me that you and Emma played some random 'Rose and Scorpius Trivia Game'?"

"I was useless, I didn't know any of the answers."

"Yeah, admittedly I don't know much about your love-life either," Rose screwed up her nose. "Apart from this Emma thing, because that's literally all anyone in this family ever talks about–"

"If that's fucking James or Roxie talking again, I swear I'm gonna–!"

"Ok, let's not have any first degree murder on my wedding day, huh?" Rose asked. "You go ahead and screw whoever you want, whenever you want, don't pay any attention to any of these losers," She gestured all around us to our weirdo family dancing. "But thank you, Fred. For being one of my Idiot Twins."

I scoffed at her, but let her hug me again. Soon, Rose left me in favour of getting pulled in by her new husband and you know, I keep saying how I don't understand those two but … I think I kinda get it now. Because it was like Al said, they looked at each other like they were it. That's all, just … _it_. Even when he swung her into a dip and back and she complained loudly that she was losing her shoes, their eyes never left each other's faces. I had to look away after several moments. Everything was starting to get overwhelming.

Later in the evening, I was contemplating leaving honestly, even though I had Roxanne ranting to me that it was traditionally rude to do so before the bride and groom left. Since when did I care about tradition, anyway? However, I accidentally ran into Bea coming out of the bathroom and my priorities got shifted.

"Oh – sorry, Fred!" she said after running into me. "Although … should I even be asking why you're hanging outside the women's bathroom?"

"I'm not," I insisted. I gestured to the table next to me and added, "I am technically next to the table full of wedding presents, which is conveniently located _near_ the women's bathroom! … also, Casey went in there."

"Casey … wait, you mean the girl who works with Scorpius?"

"She flirted with me first."

Bea gave me a small smile before saying, "I hope you're enjoying the night, Fred," She squeezed my arm and made to turn away, but I felt suddenly compelled to reach back out to her. Like, I literally I don't talk to Bea much, if at all, but she was fucking family and she was going through something. While Al had been pale most times I'd seen him, Bea's face was red and blotchy, like she'd been crying on and off for several days now. She was such a sweetheart, unlike my own fucktard self, to the point where I was willing to brave the awkward and at least try and reach out.

"Hang on, Bea!"

"Hmm?" she turned around.

"Hey … um, I wanna say sorry," I decided on the words eventually. "I mean, for overhearing … or seeing really, I didn't hear anything, but um – before the wedding started – when … I was sent to be damage control basically, I didn't realise what was going on …"

"Oh, Fred," Bea stepped closer and gripped my arm. "It's ok, believe me."

"But like," I struggled through the words. "you were crying. And everyone wants to know that you and Al are gonna be all right …"

"I know," Bea sighed, letting me go although she didn't step back. Instead, she quietly leaned against the table holding all the presents and I copied her stance. "Things got rough between us, but I think we're going to be ok, Fred. "

"What happened? Wait, shit, I can't ask that!" I quickly added. "I'm sorry, this family is way too bloody nosy–"

Thankfully, Bea laughed at me. "Trust me, I know! It's ok."

"You seriously don't need to answer that, I swear, Bea."

"I know," she said quietly. "and quite honestly, I don't think I want everyone to know. But …" She glanced up at me, then. Look, even I can tell when someone needs to talk, and Bea quite obviously wanted to. Quite unlike myself, because we all know that I deal with personal issues by cackling, 'hahaha, fuck that!' and pretending that they don't exist ( _Public Service Announcement: I probably don't recommend this tactic. Probably_ ). But Bea was struggling with words. Maybe she hadn't really discussed it with Al yet, maybe she was afraid to talk about it. I almost let her know that it was ok … but she finally started speaking.

"I was recently diagnosed with Endometriosis. To put it very simply, it's a disease that affects my uterine lining and turns out I've been struggling with it my entire life without knowing. It … basically, it means that I am highly unlikely to ever naturally conceive a child."

… fuck.

I stared at her. "But … don't you guys–?"

"Want children more than anything? Yeah," Bea huffed as she leaned back into the table and stared out over the dancing crowd for her husband. I caught her gaze over the heads to where Al was, currently awkwardly throwing Rose around the dance floor. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry that I'm telling you, Fred," she suddenly cut in fearfully. "you don't want to hear all this–"

"No, no – Jesus, I asked!" I cut in hastily. "Fucking shit, Bea. I mean, I don't even know what to say …"

"Neither did I," Bea sighed, still watching her husband. "I thought it was my fault. I thought it was my body, I should be able to control it, it's simple logic, but it doesn't work like that. I thought Al would hate me."

"So you left him."

"Biggest mistake of my life," Bea snorted. "And look how long that lasted, we couldn't even go an entire week of separation!"

"For the record, I'm fairly certain it's impossible for that bloke to hate you."

Bea smiled at me. "I know that now. And thank you for listening, Fred. Do you mind not telling anyone else any of this? Not even Emma, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," I said at once. I wanted to immediately fight her on the Emma comment, but now wasn't the time. "Shit, Bea … this just fucking sucks, huh."

Amazingly, Bea laughed out loud at that. "That's why I like you, Fred!" she said. "You never sugar-coat stuff, and you're right. _This just fucking sucks_."

She held up her hand and I slapped her a high-five. Then, we went to go get a drink together.

Honestly? I completely forgot about whoever it was I'd been flirting with.

I watched Bea after our drink as she strode out across the dance floor and went straight into her husband's arms. Al pressed his face into her hair and I shook my head, drinking the last remains out of my own glass. Literally almost everyone else was out dancing. The only ones who weren't I think were Scorpius' decrepit grandmother, who sat at her table insulting the centrepieces to absolutely no one listening, and his already established crazy Uncle Greg, who I think was attempting to eat his dinner plate. Aunt Hermione thankfully wasn't taking shots anymore and instead, was chatting happily with Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron at the edge of the dancing. Rose had actually managed to convince Mr Malfoy that he had to take a spin with her at least once, and appeared to be enjoying herself at how uncomfortably stiff he was. Scorpius looked like he was about to kill himself laughing while watching them. I even saw my parents out there, jokingly throwing each other around.

I wondered if Emma liked to dance.

* * *

A/N: Guys. Rose and Scorpius got married. They are husband and wife. They had a wedding. THEY ARE MARRIEDS.  
I have never been so emotional in my life.

I'm also very sorry for freaking you all out about Al and Bea. I know. I have a close friend who suffers living with Endometriosis and it's such an invisible condition (she literally went undiagnosed for years), so when I realised that Bea wouldn't be able to have children, I knew immediately that this would be the reason why. Magic can't fix everything . But they'll get through this because THEY ARE AL AND BEA. They love each other, and that's all that matters.

(Obviously I plan to write more about their story at some point, because I'm a slut and have apparently accepted my fate now that I will never escape this fucking hellhole of a universe. Plus there is way more to their story now than can be resolved as a mere subplot. Like, I'm not even going to attempt to resolve it within this story anymore, haha, so SOMEDAY MY FRIENDS, y'all may get some AlBea)

So can it be that Fred is - _le gasp_ \- NOT acting like a total idiot lately? Gadzooks, this cannot last. ;) Reading you guys judging my sweet, sweet boy gives me life. He's practically at a 1 now, right?

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEWS, GUYS, ROSE AND SCORPIUS GOT FUCKIN' MARRIED I AM SO DEADDED

I love y'all.

\- Moon. xoxox

PS. Please note, I wrote the above A/N several days ago. Irl I am currently dealing with something distressing that happened back home in NZ. There's a lot that I'm still trying to process. If I sound slightly off or disconnected when replying to you or just in general, this is why. Thank you, I love you all so much. xx


	14. That one time we were just friends

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 14: That one time we were just friends.

Eventually, life went back to normal.

I mean, as normal as it really gets around here. Rose and Scorpius waited until the Christmas holidays before they went on their honeymoon, so naturally I avoided them and their newlywed bliss in the meantime at ALL FUCKING COSTS. "I don't know why," James had snorted at me at one point. "They literally don't act any different now than before they were married! Except maybe that they keep calling each other Husband and Wife for some reason." I'd rolled my eyes in response, but even dealing with that sounded exhausting enough for me. The month moved into December with a flurry of wind, rain and more rain, and I had bigger things going on that deserved my attention more than my insane newly married cousin!

"Seems like the wedding went off, then," Sapphire said as I spoke to her outside the courthouse.

"Oh, it went off all right," I mentioned. "Flowers and kissing and heart eyes everywhere, it was fucking disgusting. Still … you want coffee?"

"Don't mind if I do," Sapphire said. We only had about fifteen minutes before the trial went back in session, so we quickly dove through the crowd of far-too-curious bystanders and journalists and started making our way down Diagon Alley.

We were into day two of the Reddale trial. What with randomly jetting off to Vegas and the wedding, I'd almost managed to forget that it was coming up! I guess it had come around quicker than the average court trial, probably due to the fact that literally everyone wanted this bastard in jail as soon as possible. It was much to everyone's keen interest, but I still certainly wished that I could have heard about it from afar. You know, like on the radio or through Yael or someone, but nooope, I just HAD to testify, didn't I? It was even worse than the preliminary hearing since this time had the whole she-bang! Journalists and a full jury and hundreds of eyes watching and listening to me casually talk about the time the serial killer attempted to, oh you know, MURDER ME. Luckily, my part was mostly over, but I had to stick around in case I was called on again and to my surprise, Sapphire had come down to watch.

"I hope you realise that you don't have to be here," I pointed out as we hurried to the nearest café.

"Come off it," Sapphire waved this off. "It's the only way I get to watch the son of a bitch suffer … that and I fear for your sanity. I mean, you almost killed Darla last time."

"Aw, Saph! You shouldn't have."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Forget me giving a shit, all I actually care about is getting the goss about Emma! Did you see her at the wedding?"

"Would you seriously just drop it?" I scowled.

"Not a chance in hell!"

I groaned exasperatedly as we were quick to order coffee together and start sipping the scalding liquid before we had to make our way back inside the courtroom. We waited out on the cobblestone street once we had reached the building again, despite the December weather. From this end of Diagon Alley, I had a good view down the road of Gringotts on the corner. She was probably working away in there somewhere. Whatever. Not that I ever think about it.

I'm totally chill.

"Ok, fine, I saw her at the wedding," I admitted.

"Aha!" Sapphire smirked. The wind was blowing the wrong direction for the way her hair was cut, causing the white blond locks to puff up over her head. "So what happened?"

"Nothing! Fucking Jesus …" I said.

"You can't tell me _nothing_ , it's never nothing with you guys!"

"You don't know shit, Sapphire."

"I know more than the next person," she pointed out.

True. But only because she was annoying and kept poking me until I got fed up and gave in! "God, I hate you … look, I think we've somehow become friends, ok?" I eventually decided on saying.

"FRIENDS?" Sapphire cried. "Oh, honey. Don't make me laugh."

"What? I could do it!" I countered her immediately.

"Fred! You don't HAVE friends who are girls!" Sapphire scoffed. "You either sleep with them, or they're related to you!"

"Well, excuse me, but who are you then?"

"You work with me, and if I do recall, you did try to sleep with me once," Sapphire pointed out.

"Yeah, but I don't want to sleep with you NOW, do I?"

"Really?" Sapphire asked over her coffee. "Not even a little?"

"Well, not seriously," I shrugged. "But we don't just talk about work anymore, we share personal anecdotes and drink coffee together! That's a friend, right? So you're a girl, not related to me and we're just mates. It's possible, I can do it."

"There is no fucking way," Sapphire said.

"Well, screw you, because we ARE friends," I snapped. "And just for that, I'm gonna keep doing it! We're gonna be the best fucking friends you've ever seen! YOU'LL ALL SEE!"

I mean, turns out in the long run that I wasn't, but I at least had good intentions.

But for now, I WAS RIGHT. We could be friends, we _were_ friends! Ever since the wedding, we'd started seeing each other around more and more, now that I wasn't actively avoiding going to stuff solely because I knew she'd be there and she wasn't ignoring me. It started with drinks out in town that we'd both ended up at, about a week after Rose and Scorpius got married. Here was me thinking that we'd all partied ourselves out, but nope, apparently none of us had crashed yet!

"Exactly what are tonight's celebrations for?" I'd asked Scorpius at one point at the bar.

He'd stared at me a moment. "I literally have no idea. Hey, you haven't seen my wife, have you?"

I'd just sighed and pointed her out for him. I think it was actually someone's birthday maybe, but honestly, do we ever really need a reason to go out? It was the first time I'd seen her since the wedding and naturally I'd panicked, but with a drink (or six) down me, I finally managed to relax enough to actually try and talk to her.

And turns out, when we're not naked we actually have a lot to say.

"What the fuck, nooooo!" she'd snorted that night over her glass. "You're not serious?"

"Completely! Nah, nah, hear me out, 'cause this ends good–" I'd barely been able to remember the story I was telling (probably some weird anecdote of my childhood involving Roxanne being annoying) but it had hardly mattered, really. The point had been to make her laugh, and I'd managed it with her bursting into hysterics over the bar.

I may have liked it.

And the running into each other had continued. There was the time I'd gone to visit The Tiny Human, and Emma was already there dropping off some paperwork for Libby. Or the time she came into the joke shop to buy Christmas presents and we'd had an existential discussion over a barrel of fake wands. Oh, and that one time we held shifts in line with several of the others to buy tickets for James' latest Quidditch match. What with Christmas drawing closer more recently, however, the amount of time we'd seen each other had dwindled slightly. It'd been a week or two now and after spending the entire day in the courtroom, I realised that I'd forgotten how exhausted standing as a witness usually made me. Sapphire had punched my shoulder and kissed my cheek in farewell after it had recessed for the day, though I'd noticed her eyeing me slightly in concern as the afternoon had worn on. Dealing with Reddale again just meant that I was not only miserable, but drained, pissed off and left me wanting to strangle something.

The last time I'd felt this way, I'd wanted Emma.

I stopped dead in the middle of the cobblestone street. YEAH, she was exactly what I fucking wanted, wasn't she? And last time this thought had gone through my head I hadn't let myself even go there, let alone fucking CONSIDER IT, but why the hell shouldn't I now? She's my friend, goddamn it! Sapphire could shove it, she didn't know what she was talking about. I was doing mighty fine so far at being just friends with a girl!

So I made the decision. I went to her building.

The last time I'd been there, I'd stood outside her flat for over an hour. This time, I pounded on the door before I could change my mind. I think a voice inside me was screaming at me: mATE – _MATE_ – because we'd never actually sought each other out before. We always ran into each other, bumped into each other casually. This was … something else. But I was tired. My brain hurt. So I forced myself to stay and she opened the door.

"… whoa," she noted.

"Don't," I held up a finger. "Don't say anything … but will you sit with me?"

She opened her mouth and I cut in,

"I SAID DON'T SAY ANYTHING."

"I wasn't gonna," she snorted. "Come in?"

I was let inside the small flat. She shut the door behind me as I glanced around, trying not to look too curious. It was basically the complete opposite of mine – cramped, cluttered, and with nearly every single surface covered in something. There was a battered schedule of whose turn it was to clean each week up on the kitchen wall and a roll up mattress stuffed under the TV cabinet. It wasn't the flashiest place and it certainly wasn't the cleanest, but I could definitely imagine Emma living here. I noticed her hastily shoving a pile of clothes off the sofa and I scoffed, simply collapsing down onto it instead.

"Don't bother," I said, kicking my feet up onto her coffee table. "It would take YEARS to clean this shit. How do you live like this?"

"I hate that I know that you fold your underwear," Emma smirked as she sank down onto the sofa next to me, but then she glanced at my face. She sighed. "Look, I know my place isn't exactly fancy, but–"

"Nah, nah, it's cool … " I mentioned lightly. "I mean, you don't have to live with a demon dog across the hall."

"No, just the pet snake a few doors down," Emma said.

"Seriously?" I asked, turning and looking up at her.

"Yeah! I accidentally got his mail once, and he answered the door with it wrapped around him. I'm not exactly afraid of snakes, but don't think I haven't imagined it getting loose one night and strangling the entire building to death!"

She meant to be funny and I laughed, for sure. But strangling things to death made my mind go back to fucking Reddale. Bastard. I slumped down a little more, until my chin was practically resting on my chest. Emma sighed and slid down too, stretching out her legs so that we reclined side by side. Our arms nearly touched and she bumped my shoulder with her head lightly. "So c'mon then!" she said. "What brings you here in this mood?"

"I'm not in a mood!"

"When you randomly turn up and ask me to console you, YA," she said. "you're in a mood. So what gives?"

"I did not ask you to _console me_ ," I scoffed.

"Sorry, do you prefer the term 'comfort' rather than console?"

"You're not – I'm not–" I gritted my teeth as she grinned. I glanced over at her and exclaimed, "You better not be getting a kick outta this!"

"Oh, no," she shook her head laughing.

"I hate you."

"Remember, hate is you just spreading positivity," Emma nudged me again happily and I refrained from digging my fingers into her side. I knew which exact spot would make her pee herself with hysterics, but I wasn't quite feeling that evil yet. The jury was still out on later.

"I thought I told you to never listen to what Lily says?"

"I dunno, girl knows her shit," Emma pointed out. "I met up with her for lunch the other day, by the way! We didn't really talk much the first time we met, so it was pretty cool gettin' to know her. I have noooo idea why you call your family crazy."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Lily is Satan. You can't trust her."

"But she was so nice to me!"

"I'm pretty sure she's tried to summon demons in some far off distant country we've never heard of," I said.

"I mean, it wouldn't surprise me," Emma noted. "She's been everywhere! I got so jealous listenin' about the places she's gone to, I'd love to just pack up and ship out."

"Really?" I asked. "Where would you go?"

I think I was finally starting to relax slightly, as I could feel the tension in my neck and shoulders receding as we sat next to each other and spoke about nothing serious. We could sit here and talk and my stomach wasn't twisting in knots over it anymore. This was going ok! We were doing ok. Emma shrugged, the movement jostling my own shoulder as she answered,

"I dunno, I kinda want to go everywhere … maybe start with Europe, since we're pretty close to it all. I haven't even seen much else of England, though, to be honest."

"What, seriously?"

"My family's born and raised London," Emma reminded me. "We have other stray relatives living in different places that we'd visit, but I don't actually remember ever goin' on holiday or somethin' …"

"I guess I never thought of that," I admitted. "My grandparent's house is down south in Devon, and my family went to Cornwall a lot on holiday."

"I've never been there," Emma mentioned.

"It's cool," I shrugged. "I mean, it's just a bunch of beaches and stuff, but the weather isn't total shit most of the time if you go in the summer. I have an aunt and uncle who live out there, so we stayed with them a lot. I dunno, I was like 12 the last time we went so you can imagine how much I retained from the trip."

"Hmmm, maybe I should go some day?" Emma said. "I mean, I'm basically always saving, so I guess I could actually put it towards somethin'!"

"That'd be cool, I haven't been in ages."

"Oh, you're suddenly coming with me?" Emma quickly smirked.

Shit. I hadn't noticed how that had come out and I hastily backpedalled. "No, I – uh–"

"It's fine! Lord knows I could do with a travel buddy," Emma cut over me. "and if I get too annoyed with ya, I can just toss you off the cliffs."

"Cheers."

"So seriously!" she said then, turning to look at me. "Enough distractin' me with idle small talk. Why are you in such a downer mood?"

There really was no getting past her, was there?

"Work," I eventually sighed.

"RIIIIIGHT," Emma said, folding her arms across her chest. "That mysterious job that you still won't inform me of. Good to clear that up."

"Look, Princess, don't you ever just have a bad day?" I glanced over at her.

"All the time, mate," Emma said. "Like when that bitch, Lila, gets the best autopsies or you have to categorise yet another huge-arse diamond that you don't get to keep. Or Sarah locks you in the fridge with the remains."

"Ah, Cursebreaker problems," I noticed her still looking at me though. "Look, whatever. I'm sorry for coming here. This is probably weird–"

"It's only weird if you make it weird," Emma said. "You're … you're my mate, stupid as you are. You can always come to me if you feel down."

I felt like I should be saying thank you, but I didn't quite know how to say it without this day getting even more emotionally draining, so I uh, kind of didn't in the end. But I don't think Emma minded, or at least she seemed to get that I was grateful without actually having to say so. She kept on watching me a moment, which strangely didn't feel creepy, if a bit uncomfortable. It felt like she could read me like a book, which doesn't make sense since we all know that I actively try to remain as aloof and emotionally unavailable as possible! But still, she kept at it until she laughed slightly and said, "C'mon, I think I know what you need. Let's get some food in ya."

How does she do that?

She even ended up going a few steps further and cooking dinner for me, both of us deciding to top it off with some biscuits that her flatmate had made the previous night. Actually, speaking of her flatmate, I kind of ended up meeting her as well, while Emma was making dinner. I was leaning against the kitchen bench next to her, chatting I think about something unimportant like music or something, when the door slammed and Emma suddenly screeched out, "HEEEEEY, CHARMAINE!" The girl with chin-cut black hair stomped down the hallway and past the kitchen door with a disgruntled wave and barely a hello. Then, she comically reserved back and stared in amazement through the doorway.

"Hope your day was good! Oh, this is Fred–" Emma gestured vaguely at me.

"… you mean, the douchebag who wouldn't stop owling you?" Charmaine raised an eyebrow.

"Nice to meet you too!" I waved.

She raised a sceptical eyebrow before slouching off again without another word. Her eyes dragged away from mine only at the last second as she passed the doorway. "I think she likes me," I said.

Emma outright laughed. "She's protective."

"How'd you meet?"

"I needed a flatmate, she answered the ad. We had another two flatmates who lived here as well for a few years, but they got engaged recently so they moved out. We're still trying to find at least another one, but everyone's either a freak or not freaky enough."

"I don't think I've ever had flatmates."

"Seriously EVER?" Emma gaped at me. "Not even James?"

"FUCK NO, I wouldn't live with him, even if you paid me!" I cried at once. "Love the idiot, but he's a bloody slob. He never got his bond back from his old place before he moved in with Libby, because the carpet mould literally spread and became a _health hazard_."

"Blimey."

"You can't say he doesn't have goals."

"So you've always lived alone, then?" Emma asked. "I've never done that before. Does it ever feel lonely?"

"I dunno," I muttered. "Never thought about it."

Honestly, I didn't think I ever had felt lonely living alone. I liked having my own place, I liked having somewhere with solitude when you get to the end of the day and you find that you're just sick of people … but I have to admit, I was starting to not mind being able to come and talk to someone when I needed to. And by the time we were munching on biscuits over tomato and basil pasta, teasing each other and sniggering with laughter, I was wondering whether maybe getting to know Emma hadn't actually been such a bad idea after all.

* * *

The new routine got established.

The freaky thing of course was that it was a hell of a lot like the old one! Except, you know, with a lot less sex and a lot more talking. It started as dropping randomly by each other's flats after work, and progressed to casually hanging out throughout the week. Charmaine was still yet to take a liking to me, but appeared to adore Emma, which was a strange conundrum to see.

"Does that girl seriously EVER smile?" I'd asked at one point.

"If you put her in front of a nice juicy steak, yes?" Emma had answered.

Which was only mildly frightening. Every now and then we'd get lunch together as well, if I wasn't out working a case. Libby caught sight of us once, but amazingly the girl hadn't said anything. She was still on maternity leave, but that one day near Christmas she'd just dropped in to pick up some paperwork and noticed Emma and I talking excitedly as we made our way out the building.

" _Fred_ …?" she had gaped at me, pausing as she carried her paperwork under one arm and a snuggly Clara in her carrier over the other.

"Hey, Lib!" I had yelled back to her over the wind, waving.

It had taken several moments, but eventually Libby had just shrugged and simply waved back.

Look, I have to brag at this point, because as much as I insisted to Sapphire that I could do it, I don't think I'd ever SERIOUSLY thought that we'd make this work. But turns out that Emma was pretty fucking awesome. Like, I know I probably already knew that deep down, but I was actually listening to her now. It seems that I used to see her, feel her, taste her, but I'd NEVER actually _heard her_ before. This was actual Emma, the woman behind the body, and the more I heard from her, the more I liked. Yeah, sometimes I'd sit and ask myself, _DUDE, are you sure you know what you're fucking doing?_ Because she still felt like heartburn. She felt hot and comforting and blinding and the truth is NOOOO, I've got no clue! Oh my god, Fred, you fucktard. But watch me not care.

You just fucking watch me.

There was one point near Christmas where this still slightly awkward and tentative new friendship almost crossed a line, though. I hadn't seen Emma in like a week, thanks to work, so I dropped by in hopes that she'd be free. The moment I knocked, I heard sudden yelling and feet pounding and Emma screaming, " _KATIE, GET BACK HERE!_ " Before she could do anything, the door had been answered by a girl who barely looked sixteen. Funny thing was, I honestly thought it was Emma for a second, if albeit a rather young version of her! She had the same shaped face and frizzy brown hair, but she took one look at me and yelled back into the flat,

"EMMAAA! SOME HOT GUY IS HERE TO SEE YOU!"

" _KATIE_!" Emma ran into the picture, wrestling the girl away from the door, a third male voice laughing in the background. Then, she noticed who it was.

" _Fuck_."

"Sup?" I said.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, handsome sir–" the girl who was obviously Katie began with a grin, but Emma shoved her unceremoniously back into her flat and slammed the door in her face. " _Hey!_ " Katie's muffled voice complained, but Emma ignored it.

"What're you doing here?" she asked, looking a little blindsided.

"Uh …" I suddenly stumbled over words. "I'm Fred? Remember me?"

Emma stared. I only just noticed then the way that she was standing with her back to the door, hands splayed flat against it. It told me that she was rather fearful or maybe protective of what was inside.

"That was my little sister," she said then, jerking her thumb over her shoulder in what appeared to be her explanation.

"Fair enough," I shrugged. "Little sisters – can't live with 'em."

"Her and my brother just got back from Hogwarts for the holidays," she added. "Our parents are still working, so they're hangin' out until they finish."

"I didn't even know you had siblings," I mentioned. Well, I vaguely did, but I didn't know anything about them.

"I've got four," Emma said. "I'm in the middle. Two older brothers, but Katie and Henry are several years younger than me. I help look after them a lot."

"Right," The sudden onslaught of information was making me slightly uncomfortable, but Emma looked worse than I felt. I realised that I couldn't have picked a worse time to swing by even if I tried, and I had absolutely no idea why my stomach was suddenly burning. I knew it wasn't my fault, I'd had no idea, but I still felt like I should just go and live like a troll in a hole in the ground. Was this because it felt like she was _rejecting me_? BITCH, PLEASE. I'm way better than that!

I'm too good for troll life.

So instead of scarpering, I gritted my teeth and said, "Right! Well, I guess I'll just head out then–"

"Fred," Emma called after me.

I paused.

"Come back in an hour?" she suggested.

* * *

I came back in an hour.

"Thank the lord!" Emma cried, collapsing onto her sofa with a flourish. "I love my siblings, but teenagers fucking take it out of me."

"How old are they?"

"Katie's 17, Henry's 15," Emma sighed. "I forget how ridiculous Hogwarts dramas are until they're around again, and I suddenly remember."

"Yeah, I mean I know I haven't been around much lately, but I didn't expect to get hit on by a 17-year-old …"

"Ignore Katie, she likes handsome, unattainable men," Emma snorted.

"The compliment is heard and taken."

"I didn't _compliment_ –"

"I heard handsome," I said. Then, I glanced around and added, "Charmaine's not in, is she?"

"Nah, you're safe," Emma rolled her eyes. "There's never enough room when they stay with me, so she goes and lives with her girlfriend until the Crazy Ones have gone back to school."

" _Girlfriend_?" I said in amazement. "You're telling me that the Emotionless Rock actually gets FEELINGS? Enough to maintain a relationship with another human being? And here was me thinking she had to plug herself in and re-charge every night!"

"I am not laughin' at that," Emma complained, although she was struggling to contain a giggle as she smacked my arm. "Nope, underneath her tough exterior Charmaine is a loving, caring person and does not deserve your teasin'!"

"Stop giggling, then."

"I'm nooot," she whined, even as she cracked up into my shoulder.

Blimey.

See, out of all the lines we'd crossed so far, the physical one seemed to be the only one still left. I know, of ALL things, but as good a mates we were becoming, we had never really touched since after starting this hesitant friendship. I'd tried reaching out, but couldn't seem to without the fear that it would spark something. So we sat on opposite ends of the sofa. We never hugged. Punching each other seemed to be the only mark of physical affection between us and the fact that she had now stifled her giggling into my shoulder, pressing her face against my shirt, said a lot. _It's your shoulder, YOUR FUCKING SHOULDER, YOU IMBECILE,_ my brain screamed at me, but did I listen? Oh, noooooo!

It still freaked out.

Afraid that I was about to spontaneously combust, I awkwardly pulled back from under her and her head was forced to snap back upright. Her laughter died out pretty quickly and I panicked a moment, trying to find anything to say that would simultaneously apologise and allow us to just plough on without addressing the awkward.

"SO!" I eventually decided on. "What were you doing before I turned up?"

Emma glanced over at her TV, which was currently obscured from view by a load of blankets. It appeared that her and her siblings had made a fort around the TV, a broomstick holding up the tented roof and the other end attached to the armchair that had been moved to the middle of the room. "TV wasteland," she answered.

"I don't watch a lot of TV," I admitted.

She eyed me for a moment before asking,

"Have you ever seen _Star Wars_?"

I hadn't, and it soon became clear to me why. When I told her I so, Emma instantly dragged me under a flap and inside the blanket fort, where we found piles of pillows and cushions. We ended up sitting lounging on the floor, leaning back against the soft armchair next to each other as Emma insisted on putting on the strangest film I think I've ever seen in my life.

"… oh good GOD, what am I watching?" I asked, unable to tear my eyes away from the screen.

"A cinematic classic," Emma handed over the bowl of half-eaten popcorn.

"It looks like a bunch of guys shooting at each other with fake wands," I pointed out.

"Shush! This was known as one of the most aweing and greatest movie openings of all time," Emma slapped my arm as we followed the action on the screen through two robots and a whole load of shooting bad guys. I just rolled my eyes, shoving a handful of popcorn in my mouth.

"The effects are horrible."

"It was made in 1977!"

I thought I would get utterly lost in the sea of ridiculous sci-fi and cheesy effects. Let's face it, I'm not exactly well-versed in Muggle movies AT ALL and this was one I'd always heard of but never actually seen. But at its bare basics, turns out that the plot was fairly simple. Evil Empire. Rescue the princess. Blow up Death Star. Save the galaxy. Typical day, right?

"Exactly how many films are in this series?" I hesitantly asked once my mind had been blown by the ending of the first one we watched.

"That's a good question," Emma said. "It started with just three, then six … then nine … then shit went crazy. Feel like you can go down this rabbit hole?

"Put the next one on."

So I'm going to admit to two things that happened that very long night in the blanket fort. The first was that I totally got into _Star Wars_. I KNOW, but we ended up watching the entire original trilogy that night, as Emma called it! Six hours of blasters and aliens and spaceships and getting totally sucked into the story of good and evil. I don't know how the hell it happened, but it was comforting being able to just sit there with her and not have to think about anything else. I could sense Emma getting giddier every time I mentioned something or exclaimed, "LOOK, I already knew that Darth Vader was Luke's father, because every fucking eejit on this planet knows it at this point … but I'm still going to say OH MY GOOOOD!"

We ended up in a very intense discussion between the second and third films that we watched, somewhere around two in the morning by this point. After the revelation that Darth Vader was Luke's father (DUDE SERIOUSLY, who came up with this shit?) and mourning the loss of Han Solo as he was encased in carbonite, we had argued the very important debate of when exactly him and the princess had first got it on.

"They don't say it, but that trip to Bespin obviously took a long time with no lightspeed," Emma had argued. "Potentially weeks locked up together! Somethin' had to have happened on the way. It explains how they act when they're in Cloud City."

"Nah, nah, they were still all awkward and shit once they got there," I had countered back. We had both been practically lying down at this point, heads level against the cushions and armchair we were leaning against. Emma was curled on her side facing me as she flicked her wand absently to look up the next film for us to watch. We still weren't touching, but you can fucking bet that I was thinking about it. "She's got to rescue him in the next movie, right? PLEASE say she rescues him and they have hot reunion sex?"

"We'll just havta watch the next one and find out, won't we?" Emma had smirked.

We'd ploughed through _Return of the Jedi_ just as fast as the other two until suddenly, we'd found ourselves arguing over whether to watch another movie, seeing as it was now about four in the morning, or whether I should just go home. And in that moment came the second thing that I have to confess. The line that was almost crossed.

We almost kissed.

It was as she had rolled over to face me and continue arguing after having leaned up to move the empty bowl of popcorn out of the way. We were suddenly face to face and her leg had bumped mine. She didn't pull it away. It had to be the most physical contact I think we'd had since … that morning we woke up together. _Jesus fucking Christ._ I KNEW THIS WAS A MISTAKE! We couldn't be friends, who were we fucking kidding?! She was right there in front of me and I was going to kiss her any second now, or she was going to kiss me, I could see it in her face! She was thinking about it and so was I, but if it happened, there would be no going back. I suddenly snapped upright before she could even move.

SHAKE IT OFF, MATE.

Friends. Boundaries. Don't you fuck this up now!

"Weeeeelp, I guess we'd better sleep at some point, right?" I said loudly. "You win, I'll go home. But we're watching the next ones later!"

I chanced a glance back at her, terrified that she would be glaring or something worse. However, she had a half-hearted smile on her tired face and thankfully seemed to accept that I was attempting to move past this situation with as much dignity as possible. I think she agreed with me: _it would've been a bad idea_.

"I'll hold ya to that," she said. "Goodnight, Fred Solo."

I just snorted at her. "Night, Princess."

* * *

"Have you heard anything about Al and Bea?" Emma asked me sometime late December. The two of us sat together outside the front door to her flat. The council estate that she lived in had that large concrete courtyard in the middle of the complex, surrounded by residential buildings and decorated with rubbish skips and graffiti. We sat up on the third floor, our legs dangling through the railings as we ate fish and chips out of newspaper that sat between us. Down in the courtyard, several kids were playing with a Muggle football.

"Not really," I shrugged at her. "Should I?"

"They're your family!" Emma protested.

"Aw, c'mon, they're Al and Bea," I just rolled my eyes, stealing a chip out of her hands. "There're fine."

"You're totally guessing."

"Look, I dunno!" I insisted. "I love 'em, sure, but we don't hang out. I guess I saw them at Christmas last week … they seemed ok."

"They're living together again, right?"

"Oh, yeah," I snorted. "Couldn't keep 'em apart."

"That break up didn't last that long, did it?" Emma grinned.

"Nothing's gonna break them up," I shoved another chip in my mouth. "The world might just implode."

"Did they ever say what exactly it was that they were fighting over?"

I swallowed my chip carefully. I wasn't sure how much to say. I mean, I've said it before and I'll say it again: nothing stays secret in my family. A fair chunk of us knew now, as far as I was aware. I heard Auntie Ginny talking quietly to Aunt Hermione at one point during dinner, and Scorpius had hugged Bea very hard when he'd gotten his Christmas present from her. It wasn't everyone, but it seemed that slowly, Al and Bea were getting more ok with other people knowing. I knew that James and Libby both knew now. I weighed it in my head until Emma eventually cut in,

"Ok, never mind, clearly it's not your place to say if you know–"

"Nah, nah, it's not that," I said. "I dunno, Bea told me not to say, technically, but they're slowly letting other's know now, sooo …"

"It's fine, seriously," Emma wrinkled her nose against the bitter wind. "'sides, I think I can kinda guess."

"Really?"

"She can't have kids, right?" Emma asked. "It's justa feelin', I don't know if it's true but …"

I sighed. "Yeah, that's basically it."

"DAMN, I was hoping I was wrong," Emma said. "I was thinking it was either that or she miscarried. I actually don't know which scenario would be worse."

"Yeah, well, it's cause she has Endometriosis," I said. "So there's like, that on top of everything."

"I'm afraid I don't know what that is," Emma said.

"I'm willing to admit that I looked it up," I told her. "Basically, her uterine lining develops outside of her uterus, where it's usually supposed to. It can cause severe pelvic pain, among dozens of other chronic symptoms, including infertility. Rose's Healer textbook had some rather vivid diagrams, believe me."

"Blimey," Emma sighed.

"STILL," I tried to inject some positivity on what had turned into a complete downer of a conversation. "They're Al and Bea! They'll be fine. Besides, they could like, adopt a bunch of kids instead and have enough to form their own Quidditch team!"

"There's enough of you and your cousins to do that already," Emma smirked.

"True," I shrugged. Determined to move on, I asked, "What 'bout you?"

"You know I've only got four siblings."

"Yeah, but what about cousins?"

"Both parents are only children," Emma shook her head. "It sucked at family reunions."

"How was your Christmas?"

"I _loved_ the London snow globe you got me!" Emma stole the last piece of fish from the newspaper with vinegar-soaked fingers. "Trust me, I'm going to treasure it for all time. Perhaps put it on my bedside table. Sleep with it at night."

"Well, it was either that or the Darth Vader socks."

"Oooh, that would've been cool," Emma sighed.

"I'll get 'em for your birthday then," I suggested. "When is that?"

"Tenth of July."

"SHIT, you serious?" I grinned. "I'm the tenth!"

"No way!" Emma cried.

"Yeah, tenth of July, 2005!"

"I'm 2004!" Emma laughed. "I'm exactly one year older than you! Oh my god, I can't believe we actually have the same birthday."

"How dare you, the tenth is mine!"

"Hey, I was born first, technically you stole the tenth off me," Emma pointed out with a shove to the shoulder.

I just grinned. How had I not KNOWN that? Although, to be fair, turns out that there were many things I didn't know about Emma until recently. She'd been right all those months ago when I realised that I didn't actually know anything about her that didn't have to do with her body. I still didn't know her favourite colour, but I knew her last name now. I knew how old she was now ( _26, she's 26 years old_ ) and I knew that she liked copious amounts of vinegar with her fish and chips to the point where it barely tasted like anything else (it was disgusting, but whatever). It was freezing cold out there on that third floor balcony, Emma's front door still behind us and frozen flakes starting to fall from the sky, but I was enjoying myself. I liked sitting next to Emma in a fuzzy hat and talking about everything.

I was starting to get into this friendship.

"Ok, next year," I pointed out. "we are totally celebrating together! Giant party. One night. It'll be BRILLIANT!"

"It's happenin'!" Emma laughed. "But in answer to your question earlier, Christmas was fine. I got to see my nephew, I got to hang out with my older brothers, it was cool!"

"What did you get?" I asked.

"I told you," Emma said. "I got a lovely snow globe from this random bloke that I hang out with every now and then–"

"Nah, I mean besides what I got you," I snorted.

But Emma's face fell slightly. I didn't understand why she was suddenly turning away, wrapping her arms around the railings in front of us. This woman is fucking complicated sometimes. I frowned and asked,

"What?"

"Nothin'," she said.

"Why won't you tell me what else you got?"

"'cause, Hotshot, I didn't get anythin' else," Emma admitted, pressing her beanie-covered forehead against the railing. "My family don't have a lotta money, we never have. I'm struggling to get on myself with just one flatmate. And we've got little Lockie now, so for the last few years, it's been about him. He gets the presents, the rest of us make do. There's never any pressure to buy things for each other."

I suddenly felt like an idiot for getting her a fucking _snow globe_.

"So did you … not get _anything_?" I asked, trying not to sound too aghast.

"Aside from a scarf that Libby bought me and some chocolate that my brother gave to me … no, not really."

"But that's not ok!"

"Fred, it's fine, it really is," Emma said, throwing me a look.

"But it's Christmas!"

"I think you'll find that most Christmas cards preach the idea of spending time with family and yuletide joy over presents," Emma smirked.

"Fuck that!" I burst out. I scooted backwards, pulling my legs back in and bending down to scrunch up the fish and chips wrappings. Emma hastily climbed to her own feet as I shoved the rubbish under my arm and exclaimed, "You need a proper Christmas present! I know it's a coupla days late, but we're doing something, so come on!"

Emma protested, but she still let me drag her after me as we left her building. I didn't exactly have a plan as we headed out, but this was London! We were bound to find something to do in this insane city. Making sure that we were still wrapped up in magically-heated jackets and gloves, we caught the underground into the middle of the city, and I impulsively chose Westminster Train Station to get off at. It was late afternoon, but it was already starting to get dark with flakes still falling persistently even though it wasn't cold enough for any of it to stick. The street was packed with Londoners and tourists, Big Ben looming up in front of us and the London Eye in the distance across the Thames.

BINGO. IDEA.

"C'mon, I know what we're doing!" I insisted, tugging on Emma's sleeve and making her follow me.

We stuck close together as we walked across Westminster Bridge. The lights of London were starting to blink on as the sunset sunk into dark blue and the Palace of Westminster glowed behind us. Uncle Harry told us all that he got to fly past it once when he was like a teenager or something, but I never know whether to believe his stories or not. Because she is apparently more technologically adept than I am (I probably don't even know where my cell phone is) Emma had thought to bring hers with her on this impromptu outing and at one point, asked someone if they'd take our picture with the palace and clock in the background.

"Ok, I knew I was short, but compared to you I'm bloody tiny!" Emma complained when she looked back on the photos halfway down the bridge. I peered over her shoulder.

"Eh, you look fine."

"I'm a midget! MIDGET!"

"I think that's insulting to midgets."

"FRED."

"Do you want me to bend down?" I asked in exasperation. "Put you on my shoulders? Pretend I'm–"

"Good idea!" Emma planted an elbow on my shoulder, digging it in so that I was forced to recoil and bend down. She held the phone in front of us, the camera flipped so that I could see her stretching on her toes over my head, the tall one for a change. I tried not to look ridiculous in the photos.

My plan, of course, was to get her on the London Eye. "Yeah, it's touristy and shit, but you're from London, you've gotta do it at some point," I insisted as we waited in the queue. "I did it with Libby once, it's actually not that bad."

"You did this with Libby?" Emma laughed.

"It was her idea," I rolled my eyes. "This was back when I barely knew her and she'd only just started going out with James. He forced us to hang out for the day so I'd get to know her."

"And did you?"

"I figured she wasn't that bad," I shrugged.

And later, when we were at the top of the Eye and fighting for a view at the glass, she asked, "So … how are you gettin' to know me?"

I considered. "You're not so bad."

* * *

A/N: You have no idea how much I want to scream, 'FRED. HONEY. Y'ALL ARE DATING. SERIOUSLY. YOU AND EMMA, YOU'RE DATING. JUST ADD SEX. PLZKTHX' It's like, they can do one or the other, but not both at the same time! I hate them. I love them. I hope you enjoyed this giant friendship montage of a chapter (just imagine some pop music playing in the background).

Thank you so much for your love and support, for me and for this story. My lil heart glows and grows. xx

I'm not entirely sure how much of an idiot Fred is being at the moment. He could be better than '1: only mostly in pain', but he's not exactly at '10: SET ME ON FIREEE' either. WHAT DO YOU THINK?

I LOVE Y'ALL.

\- Moon. xoxox


	15. That one time I could strangle a puppy

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 15: That one time I could strangle a puppy.

"Soooo, Libby tells me you've been hanging out with Emma."

I glanced up as James continued to pace around with Clara.

"The little rat – she doesn't know what she's talking about," I said. "She knows nothing!"

"Really? She told me that you … oh, I dunno … go out for lunch?"

"Well–"

"And like, watch movies together."

"Look, James–"

"And then there's the time you went _on a date_ to the London Eye–?"

"Is there anything Libby DIDN'T tell you?" I grumbled.

"To be fair," James grinned at me from over the top of his baby's head. "By the time I get home she's so sick of talking to a baby all day that she speaks about a hundred miles a minute. She tells me literally everything. Admittedly, when she starts telling me about when she changed the toilet paper, I've tuned out about half an hour ago."

I gave an exasperated grumble. As much as I was starting to currently get irritated with James being here, I'd missed him and the Tiny Human. Not that things were much different since the baby came into everyone's lives, but it wasn't exactly the same either. Sometimes, James would come round to hang, only to spend the entire two hours he was here crashed out on my sofa. Sometimes, they stayed in. Sometimes, Libby forgot who she was talking to and would accidentally speak to me in a high-pitched, exaggerated voice. Half the time it seemed that the two of them were literally just running around like headless chickens, their daughter planted between them. But it didn't matter, because James and Libby as parents so far had certainly been a fucking delight to watch and I think they loved Clara more than anything, which had to be saying something.

Although, I'd at first even dared to imagine that James originally came over here this evening to spend time with his loving and brilliant best friend! Now, my suspicions were heading towards he just wanted to know what the hell the Emma Deal was. YOU AND THE REST OF THE UNIVERSE, FUCKING CHRIST. He'd brought Clara with him as Libby was apparently having dinner with her parents, but he hadn't sat down once since he'd gotten here, since Clara kept screaming the second she was put down. Apparently, the girl was bored with sleeping, which I figured was fair enough considering that she did it a million hours a day. However, James was admittedly about to dance his pants off from half-pacing, half-twirling around my lounge.

"Mate, you're making me dizzy just watching you …" I pointed out.

"Oooh, I'm sorry, did you WANT her screaming the whole building down again?" James asked.

"Just sayin', maybe you need a new tactic?"

"Well then, FUCKING GIVE ME A NEW TACTIC," James stopped dead in the middle of my lounge, he face only slightly deranged. "GO ON. I DARE YOU."

"Whoa. Someone hasn't slept in a few days."

"I'm about to cry. Mate. Please don't do this to me."

"Look, hand her over," I said, trying not to laugh as I stood up. James eyed me slightly, as he always did whenever I was about to demonstrate my quite frankly incredible uncle skills. But I think it was a mark of how exhausted he was that he didn't hesitate in carefully handed over his two and a half month old daughter to me.

Lil Clara Rose Potter-Fletcher was thankfully getting bigger since the teeny weeny weight of her when she was first born. Now, I could confidentially cradle her against my chest without worrying that I would somehow squash her like a bug. She was warm and cuddly and wrapped in a blanket patterned in stars and planets. She was fussing already as the movement of pacing back and forth had stopped in the exchange and it looked like she was trying to punch me in the nose as she waved a fist around, nose scrunched up as she whined.

"You," I said firmly. "look like a drunken sailor."

Clara burst into tears.

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed, resuming the pacing that James had taken up. "Honestly, look what you've done to your poor father!" I gestured with a finger to where James had now collapsed face down and arms flat at his sides, softly moaning into the sofa cushions. "Actually, I think you may have legit killed him …"

"Don't think I've forgotten why I'm here," James' muffled voice said then.

"What, to fob off your daughter onto me so that you can actually live for a few moments?"

"I wish," James turned his face gingerly so that he could breathe and also watch me dance around with his baby. "I haven't forgotten about Emma. Namely you trying to be mates with her."

"Quit with the 'trying' shit, I AM mates with her," I said. "That's literally it. There's nothing else."

"You and Emma have never been 'nothing," James snorted.

"Have so!"

"Didn't you fall in love with her?"

"I don't bloody know anymore," I groaned. "Look, sleeping together obviously didn't work. Breaking up and ignoring each other didn't work either. So I'm trying something new. So far it's working, so there! End of discussion."

James looked sceptical as hell, but I couldn't be fucked justifying myself anymore. If he wanted to carry on believing that this was doomed, then by all means, mate. Luckily, I didn't have to listen to a word he said. Clara whined at me once more and I glanced down at her in her blanket and added, "You believe in me, huh, girl?"

She chewed on my sleeve. I'll take that as a yes.

"Look, mate, I believe in you," James said, reluctantly heaving himself upright. He sat there a moment, rubbing his dark eyes, before continuing, "and I believe in Emma. I just don't want to have to witness you yet again spiralling into this thing that you don't know how to get out of. I'd rather not sit and watch yet another train-wreck."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Really? Because when a normal person gets feelings, they uuuusually ask that person out," James said with a slight smile. "Just saying."

"Like you're one to bloody talk!"

"Yeah, yeah, so I don't have a good track record," James rolled his eyes. "At least I started something and worked up from there. You, on the other hand, are too afraid to even acknowledge the fact that at one point, you were very definitely 100% in love with the woman."

I kicked a fallen sofa cushion at him with my foot, but maybe he had a slight point. I mean, yeah. I might've fallen in love for some undetermined amount of time, but I don't _really_ know do I? Seriously, please, tell me HOW THE FUCK was I supposed to know that! I don't get love. Was it that thing I'd felt whenever we were together? Was it the heartburn? Was it the way my stomach flipped every time she laughed or was there some other secret sign that I just hadn't caught on to because again, I DON'T DO THIS? I knew what James was trying to tell me. I knew he was just trying to make sure that I didn't have yet another emotional breakdown over this shit, but he couldn't sit there and tell ME how I was feeling. At the end of the day, he knew bugger all about my relationship with Emma. I glanced down then at the fussy Clara and imagined her falling in love some day in the future.

"Do yourself a favour, girl," I said. "and if you ever meet someone like Emma, do the exact opposite of what I did."

"There's a life lesson."

"I'm full of 'em."

"Seriously, mate," James said exasperatedly. "Guys and girls can totally be just friends! … juuuust not you and Emma."

"Fuck you."

"Love you, too."

"You ever thought about the day she falls in love?" I nodded down at Clara.

James' face paled. "If there is literally any god out there, she will never be interested in such a thing and I won't have to worry."

"Too close to home, huh?"

"If this is you trying to get payback on me, it's working," James pointed out. "Look, I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard, but sometimes your arse needs pushing, ok? Maybe even a kick."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes. "I'm still marvelling at the fact that you've somehow managed to survive over two months with this thing!"

"Oh, trust me, I'm marvelling too," James said. "So. Much. Marvelling."

"She's getting bigger."

"She's getting TOO big!" James exclaimed. "Nothing fits her anymore, she's getting taller by the day, and soon she'll be going to Hogwarts and THEN what will I bloody do?!"

"Whoa, we totally just skipped like over 10 years there–"

"Freeeeeed!" James whined almost as much as Clara, which reminded me at least where she got it from.

"Yeah, yeah, I think both the Potter's in this room need to calm the fuck down," I said. "Seriously, James, you got a long time before you have to start thinking about Hogwarts. And _you_ –" I shifted Clara higher slightly in my arms as she kept fussing on the edge of a complete meltdown, refusing to quiet even when I paced around for her. "–pipe down, already! You're no doubt annoying the shit out of the entire building by now."

"Libby would know what she needed," James said with a overdramatic and forlorn sigh.

"Mate, Libby ain't The Shit," I scoffed. "You're this girl's father! And you're doing a pretty swell job so far, so don't even worry. _Please_ don't tell me that you're still feeling guilty about not getting to spend as much time with her?"

"She's my baby, I'll probably always manage to feel guilty about something," James mentioned. "but I'm doing better. Libby and I both are. We even managed to have sex again!"

"Divine," I deadpanned.

"Well, sort of."

"How the hell do you 'sort of' have sex?" I asked. "Actually, wait–"

"It lasted all but ten minutes and she didn't even come."

"… I really didn't need to hear that," I screwed up my face. "But hey, man, I'd take it! I mean, you guys super need it, so I'm willing to babysit for a couple hours if you want, so you can go and screw each other without interruptions? Or maybe I'm being too generous with 'hours'–"

"You? Babysitting?" James laughed. "PLEASE."

"I've done it before!" I countered.

"Yeah, I remember," James said with a mock frown. "You know, I'm still debating whether that actually happened. Maybe Lib was just going delusional, Clara was barely four weeks old at that point."

"Oh, come on–"

But James hardened his look.

"… ok, fine, _Emmawasthere_ ," I muttered.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" James grinned.

"EMMA WAS THERE, ok?" I said.

"Ha, I knew it!"

"You knew nothing."

"OF COURSE Emma was there!" James laughed. "But wait – are you telling me that Libby dumps my baby on you and the first person you think of to owl is Emma? Because if so–"

"She was there before Libby turned up."

That struck James dumb. I hadn't told him much about my first and only foray into babysitting for obvious reasons, and I was regretting that this conversation was even coming up now, but screw it. As a general rule, James and I knew too much about each other's lives anyway. James hesitated for a moment before saying,

"This was back during the wedding, right?"

"Couple days before it," I admitted. "We nearly slept together."

"SERIOUSLY?"

"The arrival of a baby certainly threw that off, don't worry," I said quickly. "She helped me out … actually, I think that's when we stopped trying to actively avoid each other. Turns out that when I'm not worried about falling in love with her, she's actually kinda fun to talk to."

"So that's why you're still hanging out now?" James asked.

"Emma's rad!" I insisted. "Why shouldn't I have a mate?"

James just shook his head. "Fair enough," he said. I think he was going to add on more, but Clara started full-on crying then despite all my best attempts to keep it at bay. "James!" I complained. "What's wrong with her? Does she want you again or something?"

"She's been crying on and off all day and the hell if I know why," James hauled himself to his feet so that he could trudge over and warily take his wailing daughter back off me. "Sometimes they do this. Sometimes we manage to get them to stop and other times, we just cry with them."

I tried not to laugh. Despite the exhaustion and despair in his eyes, I noticed the way James protectively circled Clara in his arms, snuggling her tight and close. He whispered into her fuzzy dark hair, something about mummy and 'please don't kill meeee'. He was tired and ready to snap basically every second I saw him these days, but the bloke was seriously a great father. You know, whether he thought himself one or not.

* * *

"Auror?"

"No comment."

"Prosecutor?"

"No comment."

"Witness!"

"No comment."

"Oh, come on," Emma huffed. "Don't tell me you really are a judge!"

"No comment!" I said. "I don't know why you keep insisting on guessing, I'm not going to tell you anything."

"But I wanna knooooow!" Emma complained, leaning over and shoving my shoulder with her own. We were sat up on the third floor balcony again outside Emma's front door and I got the feeling that she was never going to shut up about my job. "Seriously, we're s'posed to be mates! Mates know each other's jobs."

"Ok, ok," I rolled my eyes. "I'll tell you."

"Oh my god … no wait, let me prepare for this moment," Emma shook out her arms, rolling her head from side to side. Then, she glanced up. "Hit me!"

I smirked, leaning in close. I felt her tense slightly as I invaded her space, but then I was whispering into her ear,

" _I'm a lion tamer_."

She smacked me round the head. "Yow!" I whined as much as Clara does, but Emma just hit me again. "Hey, easy on the goods, sweetheart!"

"I'm gonna kill you one've these days!"

"Ooh, are you in a rage now?"

"I'll give you rage, _Bonehead_."

"Please, do!" I said. "Trust me, I'd like nothing better than a good ol' Emma Terry rage! It's always entertaining when you're mad at me."

Emma just threw me a withering look, before leaning back on her hands, swinging her legs back and forth over the edge of the balcony. "Before I get too mad at you … you going out for New Year's tomorrow?"

"Duh!" I said at once. "What, aren't you?"

"Nah, course I'll go," Emma said. "If you don't think we're gettin' too old for that kind of thing, that is."

"We're not too old!" I said at once. What blasphemy!

"Fred, we're officially in our late twenties now," Emma pointed out.

"TWENTY FIVE IS STILL EARLY TWENTIES!"

"Whooo, ok," Emma sniggered. "I was jus' saying, considering that whenever we go out, I have to account for about two to three days of recovery time afterwards. Seriously, I remember hitting the pubs back when I was like nineteen or something and the next morning, I'd be up cleaning the house and ready to drink again that night! Now, I think I legit just die in a pool of my own remorse."

"Good thing New Year's is worth it, then!" I grinned.

"Don't you ever just want to wear comfortable shoes and go to bed at a reasonable hour?" Emma asked.

I laughed that off, but admittedly yes. Eighteen year old Fred could still be drinking at two am, and ready to go once more later that day! These days, it was lucky that I worked from home a lot, since it meant that I could just summon over anything I needed and not even have to get out of bed in the mornings. We _were_ getting older now … but again, this was New Year's. Sometimes, no matter the occasion, you just needed a drink down you! I mean, exactly a year ago, Scorpius had proposed to Rose and now they were married. MARRIED. They'd come back from their honeymoon just before Christmas, Scorpius with a ridiculous cork hat on and Rose with a sunburned face ("Australia does not like ginger skin,") and even though they seemed to fight even more now that they were married, they also seemed more in love than ever, which was a sight to be seen if there ever was one. This year had also been James and Libby's first Christmas with Clara (which had basically involved James opening all her presents for her, including a toy broomstick and a baby set of Chelsea Cheetah robes) and now their first New Year's … not that they cared much about spending the latter together as a family.

"HELL TO THE NO," Libby had yelled at me when I'd asked her whether she and James were going to stay at home. "Clara will be asleep the entire time, what's the point? She's going to Harry and Ginny's for the night, and James and I are instead going to party and drink and top off the night by making sweet, sweet love in a club bathroom."

"Boy, having a baby really puts the romance back in a relationship, doesn't it?"

"I love him so much," Libby told me, sounding only slightly hysterical.

I glanced over at Emma. This time last year had been radically different for us, too. We'd been right in the middle of casually sleeping together, although I tried not to think back on that time too much. It made me remember how good it had been, which wasn't exactly ideal for the whole 'getting over her' plan. But hey, a whole year later and we may not be having sex anymore, but I definitely knew a fuckton more about her!

And that was a good thing.

"Hey, Emma!" someone suddenly yelled.

We both glanced down into the concrete courtyard that Emma's building surrounded. Several kids were gathering there, broomsticks getting passed around and wide grins on their dirty faces. Emma's younger brother and sister were already down there, having been hanging out with the older of the bunch, sitting on top of the rubbish skips in their jackets and hats. The kid calling up to us seemed to be a young girl, probably about twelve, with dirty blonde-brown hair and dark eyes. She waved her broomstick at us and shouted,

"Can you referee?!"

"Sure!" Emma yelled back down and several of the kids cheered. "If you think you can handle me!"

"Merlin, you're so embarrassing!" Katie yelled back up at her sister.

"What's going on?" I asked as Emma started moving, grabbing hold of the railing and swinging herself up to her feet.

"Oh, the kids from this building like to play Quidditch down there sometimes," Emma shrugged, holding out a hand. I took it and she helped me to my feet. "Don't worry, it's a magically owned estate! The only time we maaay have accidentally broken the Statue of Secrecy was when the building manager forgot to do a perimeter check and turns out the kids were flying too high. Had to erase the memories of the entire south wall of the building next door!" She coughed hastily and added, "I mean, if it turns out you really are an Auror, I promise this is all perfectly legal …"

"I dunno," I shrugged as we made our way to the stairs. "I may need to arrest you."

"So you ARE an Auror?" Emma grinned.

"No comment."

"DAMN IT, FRED," she groaned.

Down in the courtyard, I hung back a little bit as Emma greeted the kids. There was a fairly large group of them, which I suppose made sense seeing as it was the school holidays and all. There were literally all ages there, from Katie, Henry and the other young teenagers hanging out together, to the youngest who appeared to be a little three year old tugging on the hem of another kid's trousers and insisting that he be allowed to play. There weren't enough for two full teams, so with a battered Quaffle under one arm and a charmed walnut to zoom around and act as a Snitch, Emma shouted at everyone as the kids argued and slowly formed their two teams. In amongst all the yelling, I hadn't noticed that Katie Terry had sidled up to me until the very last second.

"HI, FRED!" she said gleefully.

"Jesus–" I grabbed my chest as I whirled around. "Oh – hi?"

IT WAS SO WEIRD. Katie looked so much like Emma it was frightening. I was going to have to force Emma to show me photos of her at Katie's age because I honest to god swear to you that the sisters were just each other at different stages. Katie had her own frizzy brown hair in plaits underneath her beanie and she was slowly turning pink in my presence. Really, her crush on me is kind of endearing, but I hesitantly glanced over at Emma. So far, while she hadn't been opposed to telling me all about them, Emma had definitely been insanely protective of her younger siblings and I had no idea whether she would even want me talking to Katie or not. However, Emma was currently distracted by a couple of the kids fighting with each other, and Katie was apparently taking it as her golden opportunity.

"So like … you're my sister's mate, then?" she asked me.

"Uh …"

"'cause she told me 'bout you, right? And I'm just sayin', there's more than one Terry sister if you get bored of her, which you might 'cause let's face it, she's a draaaaag," Katie laughed at me.

I just snorted and shook my head. "Sorry, girl," I told her. "but I kinda like your sister a lot, sooo."

Katie mock gasped and mimed being stabbed. "MY HEART," she moaned. "but seriously, your options are always open – do you work out?"

"I'll bear it in mind," I said in amusement. "and my job gives me more than enough exercise, thank you."

"Ooh, what is your job?"

"Did Emma tell you to ask me that?"

"I swear, no!" Katie insisted. "Actually, Em banned me from talkin' to you at all. No idea why, o'course."

"Of course," I rolled my eyes. "Does your sister really think I'm such a bad influence?"

"Naw, she's just always been that protective of us," Katie shrugged, glancing over at her older sister as she did so. Emma was currently trying to prise two of the kids apart, yelling something about 'DON'T MAKE ME GET MY WAND OUT'. "Me and Henry, we're like, the babies of the family. Ugh. It's so annoyin'."

"Hey, I've got a younger sister too," I told her. "You lot are annoying, but we look out for ya, it's in our job description. Give Emma some credit."

Katie scoffed, but with the way she looked at her older sister with adoring, loyal eyes, I knew that there was nothing to her words. She and Emma actually had what seemed to be a genuinely loving sibling relationship. Huh, I wonder what that's like? My own sister did nothing but insult me and call me to come bail her out of psychos' bathrooms in the middle of the night! But Katie's words were ringing in my ears now and I found myself drawn back to the conversation I'd somehow found myself in.

"So exactly how much has Emma told you about me?" I asked.

Katie giggled and blushed bright red. Oh, Jesus.

"That bad, huh?"

"You're a good kisser, apparently," Katie mentioned. "Wanna practice?"

"Katie, honey, if you're nice to me and your sister will let me, I'll give you a kiss for your next birthday. How does that sound?"

"But I just had my birthday!"

"Take it or leave it."

"Fine, I'll take it," Katie huffed. But then she brightened and continued, "I dunno why you're both being so stupid about each other, though. You gotta at least explain that shit to me, 'cause I don't get it. You're hot, you're good at kissing, why aren't you bangin' my sister?"

"Jesus, Katie."

"WELL, WHY AREN'T YOU?"

"We're just friends," I sighed.

"YA. OK," Katie said. "She still thinks you're hot, FYI."

"I still think she's hot too, I ain't denying that."

"SO WHAT GIVES? At least if I can't have you, maybe she can!"

"Honey, you're so young," I think I nearly gave Katie an aneurism by throwing an arm around her shoulders. "You are yet to experience so much life! Until you have seen as much as I have–" I gestured a grand hand in front of us to convey all my wise experience. "–then you cannot comprehend any explanations I may give you."

"… that was some nice bullshit."

"Thank you," I pulled back, glancing once more over at Emma. This time, my stomach churned – she was looking right at me. "And Katie, I think we may have to put an end to this thrilling conversation, since your sister looks like she may murder me."

"Oh, dear," Katie sighed. "That's her 'Katie, why' face. Don't worry, I don't think she's mad at _you_."

"Good luck, my young friend."

"Until we meet again!" Katie blew me a kiss before hastily scarpering amongst the crowd of kids. I slowly made my way through the two teams that finally seemed to be forming, my head still spinning from Katie Terry. She and Emma were definitely 100% related.

"… no – NO, Riley, I told you, I don't want you on my team!" the young blonde girl from before was now shouting at what seemed to be her younger brother.

"That's not fair!"

"I'll take you, Riley!" the captain of the other team called out with a grin. "C'mon, we'll smash 'em!"

"You wish!" the girl called back.

"Save the trash talk, Rubes," Emma snorted, squeezing the girl's shoulders. "You know it's not your strong suit!"

"Shuddup," the girl said.

Emma let the girl go as the teams huddled to discuss tactics. I feared her chewing me out, though for what I wasn't quite sure. I stayed silent, hands shoved in my pockets as she came and stood next to me.

"I see you got waylaid by Katie."

"It was rather difficult to ignore her," I mentioned.

Emma just snorted lightly. "The girl is nuts. What the hell did she say to you? I love her to pieces, but I swear to god I'll kill her if–"

"Oh, nothing that terrible," I shrugged. "I mean, just something about you thinking I'm hot and asking me why we're not banging."

"I was right. I'm gonna kill her."

"You told her everything, didn't you?"

"She's my only sister!" Emma shot me a look. "'course I censored a few things for her sweet baby ears, but essentially we tell each other everythin'. I'm sorry, she's a pain in the arse."

"Nah, it's fine," I said. I think this was the closest we'd ever gotten to mentioning our previous history (DUDE, the fact that we even HAD history was painful enough!). We usually steadfastly avoided the topic like the fucking plague, PLAGUE I TELL YOU. If we wanted this friendship to work, then there were a few things that had to be off limits, and the fact that we used to sleep together (and maybe still wanted to occasionally, I don't fucking know) definitely counted. Sometimes I had these moments where things got slightly too intimate, or I was reminded of how close we were getting, and I would feel my throat constrict and the only words my brain could seem to string together were curses. I'd felt it that night we'd binge-watched _Star Wars_. I'd felt it at the top of the London Eye. And I was feeling it now, realising that Emma gossiped about me with her sister and that she wasn't even mad at me for talking to Katie in the first place. She was ok with me possibly getting to know her family and it was FREAKING ME OUT.

Realising that I was inwardly about to go into a meltdown for some of the most ridiculous reasons, I decided that I most definitely needed to fucking snap out of it. I caught the eye of the blonde girl and she took it upon herself then to pipe up,

"C'mon, Emma! Are you gonna ref, or keep standing there with your boyfriend?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "This is my mate, Fred. 'course I'm gonna ref, if you babies are ready?"

"You bet!" the girl grinned. The teams dispersed as the girl walked straight up to me and asked, "Are you gonna play?"

I spluttered for something to say for a moment. "I – I dunno–" I began hesitantly, glancing at Emma.

"Oh, go on," Emma grinned. "they could do with some real competition."

"Hey!" the girl complained.

"You know you suck."

"You're not any better!" the girl dug back.

"Uhhh, what's your name?" I ended up asking.

The girl turned back to me. "Ruby."

"Stand back, Ruby. I'll show you how it's fucking done."

Ruby grinned as Emma smacked her forehead. "I like him!" she said. "Can I swear too?"

" _Noooo_ ," Emma deadpanned. She shoved Ruby off to go join the others in warming up before walking over to me, shaking her head. "You're such a bad influence," she said.

"Katie mentioned. I do take pride in that."

"Seriously, these kids don't need any more of that shit," Emma told me.

"What d'you mean?"

"I've known a lot of these kids for a long time, some of them since they were born," Emma folded her arms as she glanced up at the building around us. "Most of them have great families. Some of them don't. Like Ruby, she's a foster kid."

I paused at that, glancing up at Ruby as she commanded her five-strong team, broomstick in hand and tying up her hair at the same time. "Am I allowed to know what happened?"

"She doesn't tell me much, but I think her biological parents certainly had some serious issues," Emma said. "Enough that their children were taken off them, at least. Ruby and her three siblings live with this lady on the first floor, and they've only been here since summer. The younger two could have been adopted apparently, but they wanted to stay together. I'd imagine that it's found placing them with a family difficult."

"Dang. She seems to like you, though."

"Aw, she's a ruffian, just like the rest of 'em," Emma grinned. "Just like my wayward siblings. I'm still gonna kill Katie, by the way. RIGHT, YOU LOT!" she added in a yell, moving forward. "You wanna play Quidditch? THEN LET'S PLAY!"

"Fred, you're gonna be on my team, ok?" Ruby ran forward then, shoving a broomstick in my hands. It was cracked, dirty and I seriously doubted it would even get off the ground, but shit, I couldn't say no, right?

"Let's kick some arse," I just shrugged.

Ruby grinned.

* * *

I didn't walk away from playing Quidditch with the kids thinking that it was gonna become a thing, but I think Ruby was determined to make it so. Admittedly, the girl can fucking fly! She hung off my arm for almost half an hour after one of the other kids had done a dive roll and caught the Snitch/walnut. She rambled for a million years about famous matches and the current Quidditch season and I think I made her nearly faint when I mentioned that I knew James Potter of the Chelsea Cheetahs. Considering that her home life was probably sucky, I should probably swing it so that she could meet him some time. Gotta love sending people into comas!

"What can I say?" I told Emma as we arrived at the _Flash Dragon_. "Girls dig me. WHAT UP, BITCHES?"

It was getting on ten o'clock, New Year's Eve, and I think most people were already here. Emma and I had to swerve through packed tables to make our way over to the mass of my crazy family that seemed to have taken over half the entire pub. The music was pounding, there was a large 'Happy New Year!' banner hung up behind the bar, and the atmosphere was electric. Course, it wasn't just my family here, as several of Rose's weird friends swarmed over many of the tables, some I knew, some that I didn't. Emma left me to go hug Rose happily and I think James and Libby might've have gotten up to greet me, if they hadn't been busy shagging in the corner.

"Are they _actually_ …?" Emma's voice trailed off, glancing around Rose's shoulder.

"We're not sure, it's rather dark," she snorted.

"OI!" I yelled over at them. "GET A FUCKING ROOM!"

James pulled the finger while Libby completely ignored me, sitting in his lap and appearing to make quite good use of her tongue. "My friends are so nice," I mentioned, turning back to the girls.

"Hey look, they haven't been thrown out yet, so let the kids have it!" Rose said, a wine glass in her hand and apparently already rather tipsy. She staggered slightly when she tried to let go of Emma. "WHOA–" Hastily getting back to her feet, she added. "Good to see you, Em! I see you're still toting Fred around after you like a handbag."

"Hey!" I said.

"No offence, Fred."

"Rosie, you hurt me."

Rose just waved that off. "Ahhh, you're Fred. You guys want a drink?"

I rolled my eyes. "Did Luke blow up the Death Star?"

Rose stared at me but Emma at least laughed and slapped me a hi-five. Rose threw up her hands then and just muttered, "Y'know what, I bloody give up trying to figure you guys out … maybe I should lay off the wine …" She still drained the glass before moving on.

"No one understands us, Princess," I pointed out.

"They're jealous of our connection."

"Connection, smection, I want Firewhiskey!"

We hit up the bar together, mainly because when I asked Emma to go get me one, she punched my shoulder and told me to fuck off. We made our way back to everyone else, but Emma got distracted by Lily along the way. I winced as the girls both shrieked in my ear and I was promptly forgotten about. I was glad though that Emma seemed to have found a friend in Lily. She was several years younger and had way more life experience than the both of us put together, but they had a common enemy, and if there was only one thing I knew about Lily, it was that she could be about as sassy as Emma sometimes.

I leaned against a table, saying hi to Scorpius and several others behind me, but it was hard to get into the conversation when it meant dragging my eyes away from Emma. COME ON, this is ridiculous! She's your friend, not your property! You can't follow her wherever she goes, it's fucking creepy just for starters. This wasn't a new feeling, unfortunately. It was left over possessiveness of once having claimed her as mine on several occasions. It was bleeding over into our friendship and it wasn't exactly healthy. Knock it off, Fred!

"You know, I've heard that if you stare at girls long enough, they'll eventually go for you!" my sister's voice suddenly chimed in.

"Roxie!" I cried. "Oh, just the girl I was hoping to see!"

"You wound me. Just fuck her again already, you clearly want it."

"How much have you had?"

"Oh, I'm going sober tonight!" Roxanne held up her glass which appeared to be full of orange juice. "Calvin doesn't drink."

"Who?"

"The BF," Roxanne pointed out the tall skinny bloke currently awkwardly making conversation with a couple of mates of hers. Oh my god, he literally could not be any more than seventeen years old.

"Understandable. Tell me, when does he get to go for his Apparition Licence?"

"Oh, ha fucking ha," Roxanne complained.

"No, no, I'm sorry!" I grinned. "I'll stop – now are you gonna need a ride home tonight? You want me to take you, or is his mum picking you guys up?"

"FRED," Roxanne whined.

"Oh, come on!" I laughed, gesturing to him. "Whatever happened to 'I prefer mature men now'?"

"Calvin is 22, I'll have you know!"

"Bullshit, he barely looks out of puberty."

"Hey, from where I'm standing, I'm the one regularly gettin' some," Roxanne pointed out.

"NOPE, no, you are my sister!" I yelled, clamping my hands over my ears. "I can't un-hear statements like that! And fuck you, I have sex whenever I want!"

"Oh, really?" Roxanne smirked.

"I don't know what the hell you're implying, but leave it alone," I warned.

Thing was, I don't think I'd been with anyone since before Rose and Scorpius' wedding. I don't know what I hoped to achieve by it, but apparently I'd gotten it into my head that if Emma was in my life in any way, it was either sex with her or not at all … and Christ on a bike, that was a dangerous habit to keep up. I guess I struggled to look past her whenever she was around, but I had to get over it. I had to stop leaning against tables like this and just watching her live her life, otherwise this friendship would never work, right? Oh, look, it's the heartburn again!

I quickly downed my drink and shoved Roxanne out of my way before she could say anything else. Stupid sister. I noticed James was talking to his younger brother, so apparently he and Libby have climaxed by now. Libby was still hanging off him, but their faces seemed somewhat serious for a New Year's Eve party as they spoke to Al. I automatically looked for Bea nearby in response and I caught her eye as she spoke happily with Rose. She gave me a small smile, so I grinned back at her, pulling a face.

"Watch it, the wind might change!" Emma suddenly cut in.

"Wouldn't you like that?" I smiled at her.

"I've seen ya pull too many weird faces at me, Fred, nothing can surprise me anymore."

"I … will not comment on that," I said. "I don't think I have the mental strength. Lily still a weirdo, then?"

"She is hilarious when she's drunk!" Emma laughed. "I also think I kinda had a bit too much because it's suddenly waaay too hot in here."

"You're telling me," I said straight to her face.

"Huh?"

"What?" FUCK. What was that I'd said before about not being so possessive? "I – I mean – c'mon, you have to have noticed the arse in this place! Who catches your eye, we can wingman each other!"

"What? Nooooo, I'm not helping you get off with some poor unsuspecting woman," Emma snorted. "You want some, you get it yourself."

"I mean, I could, but it's more fun this way!"

"Isn't James normally your wingman?"

"Yeah, but he only cares about sleeping with Libby now," I said. "C'moooon …" I wheedled. "We're mates, don't think about it too much! Look," I pointed out a woman a few tables over who appeared to be alone. "that girl's super hot, go tell her that I'm fantastic in bed!"

"Oh, shut up," Emma rolled her eyes, but she drained her drink and slammed the glass into my chest. To my surprise, she then actually started making her way over to the girl. Sweet baby Jesus, I hadn't actually expected her to! SUCCESS, PEOPLE. I wasn't sure what she was going to do at first. I literally wouldn't put it past her to yell out to everyone about the time I accidentally farted on her in bed (it is, unfortunately, one of the many stories of casual sex that nobody ever wants to hear). But to my surprise, Emma went straight up to the girl and introduced herself. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at me and I caught the flash of a smile.

That's my princess.

Things went horribly wrong however, when before I could even go over there, the woman approached me. I threw her a smile and began, "Hey, Beautiful."

"Hey," she smiled back. "so were you planning on buying me a drink at all this evening?"

"What'll it be?" I asked at once.

But suddenly her face fell. "I knew it!" she shrieked before I got a cocktail to the face.

I was left gingerly wiping it out of my eyes as the girl spun on her heel and stomped away. Then, Emma turned up, laughing hysterically. "Oh my god, that went better than I thought!" Emma practically cried, leaning an elbow on my shoulder.

"What did you say to her?" I demanded.

"Nothing!" Emma sniggered.

"You sabotaged that on purpose!"

"Did not," she smirked.

"Ok, fine!" I grew determined. "You think it's that easy? I'll be _your_ wingman. QUICK, there's gotta be someone hot enough for you in here, right?"

"What?" Emma's eyes went wide as she laughed. "Fred, noooo–"

"Ohhhh, no! No, I must simply return the favour," I said gleefully, glancing around the crowd of happy, celebrating people. "Now c'mon, tell me! Which guy here is the cutest? I mean, I'm partial to a few of the blokes over there, but I'm not entirely sure what your type is, apart from myself, of course–"

"Fred, you're not wingman-ing for me," Emma rolled her eyes.

"Course I am! What about–?"

"FRED!"

I suddenly glanced down at that. I think she'd finally realised that I wasn't joking.

"I swear, don't do it!" she said, serious now. "Really, Fred, I'll make ya regret it."

"Fine, blimey! What's your problem?" I asked.

"C'mon," she scoffed. "I know you're just messin' about, but no bloke's gonna want me in here. You don't meet nice girls in pubs."

"The fuck? This is the _Flash Dragon_ , not a seedy nightclub," I snorted. "Besides, who says anyone's looking for a nice girl? Maybe they want a sexy vixen who'll boss 'em around. You could fulfil that role more than satisfactorily."

"Yeah, sure."

"Hey," I frowned at her. In fact, I turned because I realised that she was refusing to look at me, instead staring at her shoes. "Quit with the weird 'woe is me' talk. I don't like it."

"Just sayin'."

"Well, _I'm_ just sayin'," I suddenly got mad. "Emma, you're a goddamned fucking superstar, ANYONE would want you in this place! Seriously, I could introduce you to literally anyone, and they'd have you. You believe that, right?"

It was suddenly clear that no, she didn't believe it, not for a second. Shit. I hadn't noticed until now, but it was plain to see on her face that she was apparently terrified of the concept. She didn't believe at all that she was desirable, but I was going to keep saying it until she did because the idea was ludicrous! Very rarely did Emma revert back to that insecure version of herself, which I was grateful for, but I wasn't afraid to remind her of how incredible she could be. Look, I'd been kidding earlier. I was going to jokingly humiliate her, just like she had humiliated me, but with a snap my tack suddenly changed. Emma deserved to have a good time just as much as me. Actually, considering all I'd put her through, she probably deserved it more. But the laughter of joking around was gone from her face. Her eyes were wide as she practically tried to hide behind me.

My throat was squeezing tight and screaming _mate, what the hell are you doing?_ but … I couldn't make this this about me anymore. I threw an arm over her shoulders and yanked her in.

"C'mon," I muttered again. "Obvs you don't have to, but you should. Now seriously, tell me who's hot."

It took a moment of her cringing slightly, but eventually, she said, "I dunno … maybe that bloke over at the bar."

I gave him a quick once over. By himself. Roughly our age. Quite a good-looking dude. "Wait here," I told her, before approaching the guy.

"Sup?" I said before plonking down next to him. The bloke glanced at me weirdly before I continued, "So I'm gonna be straight with ya. Turns out, there's this really cute girl who's been eyeing you and if you don't act like a douchebag, she'll go home with you. Sound ideal?"

"Who the hell are you?" the bloke asked in bewilderment.

"A wingman," I just shrugged. "Seriously, it's the short girl with the frizzy brown hair about three tables over. I suggest you look past the hair, because she's fucking amazing. She'll be a bit shy at first, but go talk to her, and I guarantee you'll have a good night."

"You can guarantee that?" the bloke asked.

"First hand."

"Fine. She's cute, I suppose … the one in the blue dress?"

"That's her. Seriously, she's great."

The bloke just shook his head with a slight grin. "Happy New Year, mate."

"Happy New Year!"

Sure enough, the bloke eventually made his way over to Emma. As predicted, she was nervous as hell, but she stuck it out and eventually, she was managing to flirt the crap out of that conversation. I was almost rather impressed! Was it weird that I felt simultaneously proud of her, and sick to my stomach at the same time? I'm not an idiot, I knew that I was jealous. It was Emma, of course I was, who wouldn't? But tonight had become about a bit more than just joking around. It was about her remembering that yes, she actually was fucking good enough for anyone, and I just had to get over myself and let her do it. She deserved way more than I could give her, so I should just be grateful that it wasn't Sebastian FUCKING Cortez, amiright?

HA, yeah, I'm totally funny.

"Fred, you might not have noticed, but Emma's totally chatting up some bloke over there," Rose said, helpfully popping up some ten minutes later.

"Oh, Rosie! Been meaning to point out that you're back from your honeymoon – _congraaaats_!" I warbled.

Rose rolled her eyes, leaning down and hugging me around my shoulders from behind. I sat back in my chair and tried to not find my baby cousin so endearing. "Thank you," she told me. "but, the more pressing matter here is CLEARLY Emma hitting on someone else! You want me to fight 'em? Cause I'll fight 'em!"

"Nooo, no fights!" I said hastily, grabbing hold of Rose's arm and pulling her back as she made to move over there. Unsteady on her feet, she tumbled back over me. "I know she's talking to him and it's fine! Ok?"

"What?" Rose looked bewildered. "but you like her!"

I shrugged. What else could I say? Rose rather ungracefully moved to lean against the edge of the table instead of continuing to practically sit on me. "Fred!" she said. "This isn't the way to get over her."

"Then you tell me what is!" I burst out, throwing my hands in the air.

"I don't know! I've never had to get over someone before!" Rose admitted.

"What about when you and Scorpius broke up?" I asked. The incident had been a while ago now, like two years or something, but I wasn't going to forget it any time soon. We'd been gobsmacked at the news, but within ten minutes, we were all taking bets on when they'd get back together. If I remembered correctly, Trevor won.

Rose had laughed at my question. "You're funny if you think I got over him."

"But you guys saw other people!"

"Fred," Rose snorted. "Scorpius dated the first girl who showed interest and I slept with my boss."

"… I didn't say you made _good_ decisions," I pointed out.

"Look, I never got over Scorpius and in the end, I married the idiot," Rose grinned at me. I noticed that she was sliding ever so subtly down the edge of the table and I grabbed at her waist, shoving her back upright. "WOOO!" she yelped at the movement. "Sorry, thanks – anyway, so we're concluding that you're never going to get over Emma and I wanna snog my husband! Where is he?"

"Talking to Al over there, I think – but–"

"SCORPIUS!" Rose screeched across the pub. "I WANNA SNOG YOU!"

Scorpius, who was laughing hysterically with Al a couple of tables away, stuck his head up at the shout. When he noticed his drunk wife, he grinned and yelled back,

"THANKS! I WANNA SNOG YOU, TOO!"

"Ah, love," I deadpanned.

"Look, what ARE you doing here, then?" Rose asked me.

"She … we were just messing with each other, but she genuinely didn't think anyone could want her tonight. I was gonna give her shit for it … but the girl's amazing. She deserves to feel like she is."

"You helped her get off with someone else, just to boost her confidence?" Rose looked like she might cry. "Merlin, Fred …"

"It's nothing, Rosie."

"What, and you're not even jealous?"

"Oh, no, I definitely want to strangle a puppy, I'm that jealous," I assured her. "but …"

Rose didn't say anything then, just moved forward and hugged me fiercely. Suddenly, everyone was standing with their arms around each other, moving in a flood outside to the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley. It was a blur of loud people and according to all the snatches of conversation, midnight was apparently a couple of minutes away, but Rose was still hugging me. So I stayed and tightened my arms around her for a moment.

"C'mon, mate," Rose grinned at me.

We walked outside together, pausing every few seconds to call out to another one of her friends or our family. Scorpius staggered over and we both had to catch him, Rose linking her arms through both of ours. I noticed Al and Bea cuddled together underneath the stars outside, both looking up with light and shadows darting across their faces. There were hundreds of people gathering out in the street, excited and yelling and anticipating the new year.

"To everyone here!" Rose yelled then, making Scorpius raise his drink for her. "Bring on 2031!"

"CHEERS!" everyone else yelled back. I saw James and Libby standing together with Lily, Dom, and Lily's foreign man-friend who's name I forget. Rose's friends, Trevor and Toby, had crossed their hands and were carrying Sophie between them, the latter apparently having hurt one of her ankles at some point. But she held her shoe in her hands and they were all laughing about it at least. You know, I think I was actually starting to feel a bit better! My family was made up of a bunch of idiots, and the friends and other various counterparts in our lives weren't much better, but they were cool idiots. It was only when the entire street was screaming, "THREE – TWO – ONE – HAPPY NEW YEAR!" when I realised that for the first time since I think I was about sixteen, I actually had no one to kiss at midnight. I didn't mind at first as everyone cheered and I hastily let go of Rose as Scorpius leaned over and kissed her long and hard. We all looked up as the first of the fireworks exploded over Diagon Alley, dancing dragons and leprechauns in amongst the sparks, celebratory music playing over the street. In fact James was there first, yelling in my face and hugging me, before I suddenly saw them:

Emma kissing that bloke from the bar.

My good mood vanished completely. There was a whistling sound ringing somewhere in my head until it crashed and exploded in my chest. I was proud of her, but _fuck_. James didn't even need to say anything. He caught my expression and spun around to see. He winced before crushing his arms around me once more. Libby had been swinging around in circles with Rose and Bea, but a few moments later she apparently caught James' eye, because she came over and joined us in our hug too. "Noooo, Libby!" I complained, not wanting a pity hug, but apparently Rose thought it was a pile-on and pretty soon, nearly every member of our family and her crazy mates were crushing me in the middle of an insane tangled hug. Fuck it. I laughed with them.

It was still a good thing that there weren't any puppies around.

Happy Fucking New Year.

* * *

A/N: Oh, Fred. He is trying so bloody hard. I'm actually kinda proud of him, even though he still needs to just accept that he's in love with her already, but still HE'S TRYING. He cares so fucking much about Emma, to the point where he's willing to give up his personal feelings to make her feel better, and I love him for it. New Year, New Fred? Lord knows. This friendship is certainly going places.

Also, Katie Terry is my new fave, BYEEE.

Thank you so much once again! And I know Fred has surprisingly not been much of an idiot lately (who saw THAT coming, right?).  
But it probably won't last, haha.  
So please tell me how much of an idiot he is this time, your amazing words always keep me going! I LOVE YOU ALL!

\- Moon. xoxo

PS. The slightly adjusted Fred Idiot Scale, for your convenience:

1 - only mostly in pain  
2 - why why why whywhywhywhwhwyhhuiuifhfhhfuh  
3 - do you even have a fucking brain  
4 - I hate you  
5 - arrrgHHH#VN&$%GNU  
6 - dude. dUDE.  
7 - What. The. Fuck.  
8 - I can't even  
9 - send help  
10 - SET ME ON FUCKING FIREEEE


	16. That one time I was genuine

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 16: That one time I was genuine.

At 6 o'clock on New Year's Day, I got a phone call.

"Fuck – fuck–" I heard the damn thing ringing and several empty Firewhiskey bottles tumbled out of bed with me as I accidentally rolled out onto the floor with a thump. Blimey, I must've hit it hard! Last night I think was the first time I had ever spent New Year's Eve completely alone. Not alone in the sense that I stayed in, saw no one and brought in the new year in bed with chicken wings, but alone in that I went to bed without another person. I think I'd always had someone! Last night, however, I'd stayed up with Rose and my other cousins, singing louder and louder the more bitter I'd felt, especially when I'd realised that Emma had eventually left with that bloke from the bar. Where the hell was my phone? I need to stop leaving it in weird places. Bleary-eyed and barely able to think over the pounding in my head, I stumbled still in my clothes from last night into the bathroom.

I'd apparently left it in the toothbrush holder. We gotta stop meeting like this.

I hit the green button and threw it to my ear. "IT IS SIX IN THE MORNING," I complained.

" _Ssshhhh!_ "

"Emma?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

" _Yeah, it's me, but don' yell_."

For a second, I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply over the irrational hurt in my chest. We're friends. Mates. It's fine. She had to be calling for a reason, so I eventually shook my head to clear it (and immediately regretted it, but still). "Well, mornin' Princess!" I said, about as cheerfully as I could muster. "What, prey-tell, was so important that I had to get dragged out of bed for this? Actually, when did we ever exchange numbers? I feel like that's a pretty big milestone, we should have celebrated _–_!"

" _For god's sake, now's not the time! Lo_ _ok, I'm outside that bloke's house from las' night, but,_ " There was a whooshing sound as Emma apparently moved around out in the early January morning wind. " _I haven't got a fuckin' clue where I am_."

I snorted a bit too loudly because she complained, " _Hey! I was drunk, I wasn't paying attention to where I was!_ "

"Couldn't you just use his fireplace to Floo home?"

" _I couldn't find the Floo Powder – Christ, Fred, I just wanna get out of here as fast as possible, but I'm literally standin' outside the front garden and I can't even Apparate 'cause it's a Muggle area–"_

"Oh, c'mon," I scoffed. "No one ever pays attention to that rule! Just Apparate, no one'll notice."

" _Ok, you're definitely not an Auror, if you're encouragin' me to break the law_ ," I could hear her smiling at least a little. " _But I can't do it, what if someone heard? What if the Ministry tracks me down? OH MY GOD, Fred, all I know is that I'm some place in London! DO YOU KNOW HOW BIG LONDON IS?_ "

"All right, all right, don't panic," I sighed. "D'you know what street you're on?"

" _The sign says Greenford Ave?_ "

"Oh!" I said. "Hang on, that sounds familiar. I'm pretty sure James went out with a girl who lived in that area once. I think you're in Ealing! Look, don't worry, just stay where you are and I'll come find ya. Is there another road or something I can cross with it?"

" _Hang on, I'm just walkin' down the street now_ ," Emma's voice said and I heard the thuds of her hastily hurrying down the road and the feedback of wind. " _Elmbank Way! There's a bus stop here_ –"

"Ok, STAY THERE, I'll look it up and come now," I said firmly, heading back to my room and promptly tripping over an empty bottle. As I shoved my feet back into my shoes, I heard her give a minute sigh of relief. There was no other option, really. Of course I was going to go find her, even though I felt like dying and the sun was barely even up yet. Luckily I myself had no desire to keep to the Statue of Secrecy at all and hey, if the Ministry did track me down for Apparating unlawfully in a designated Muggle area, I knew people at the Auror Office! They'd back me up, I'm sure.

"Well, this looks comfy!" I called out, peering round the edge of the Ealing stop.

"FUCKIN' JESUS – Fred!" Emma yelled, jumping a mile. I laughed as I came and swooped in next to her underneath the bus stop veranda. She clutched at her heart and slammed me in the chest with the back of her other hand in annoyance. "I'm on edge enough as it is, are ya tryin' to actively kill me?"

"Hey, Princess, I'm not the one who had to ask for help because they got stranded in the middle of west London," I grinned.

"Oh, like you never got stranded anywhere before," Emma grumbled. Of course she was still wearing her blue dress from last night, though I noticed that the straps were twisted underneath her winter jacket. She had waited for me with her heels in her hands and she grabbed onto my shoulder now so that she could put them back on, her hair flat on one side and eyes black-rimmed and smudged. She looked a mess. A beautiful mess. _Goddamn it._ I guess I didn't look much better and it occurred to me in that moment that she might be assuming that I'd gone home with someone too. I mean, I was still wearing the same thing as well and looked like I'd been through the wringer! To hopefully delay her asking or bringing it up, I quickly said,

"C'mon, Princess. Let's just go and sit for a bit, you need to calm the fuck down."

We ended up finding a children's playground a little further down the road. It was in amongst all the houses, with trees and swings, overflowing rubbish bins and a couple of illegal bottles strewn in the grass, no doubt left over from last night's celebrations. I teased Emma about being too short to reach the monkey bars, so we found ourselves climbing up on top of them, sitting between the bars with our legs dangling. It was surprisingly comfortable sitting side-by-side, watching the sun rising slowly in the distance.

"I'm all seriousness, thank you for coming and getting me," Emma mentioned then. "God, I'm gonna need some tea soon!"

"Girl, after last night you're gonna need something way stronger than that," I said. "You disappeared around midnight … I'm assuming it went well?"

Emma rolled her eyes, but she turned and smiled at me. "Can ya believe it?" she asked. "I had a one night stand! ME. Oh my god, I still can't believe I did it, this is incredible!"

I coughed vaguely and she added, "Don't worry, I was this amazed after first sleepin' with you, too."

"So you don't do this often, then?"

Emma snorted. "Look, I'm a relationship girl at the end of the day. The thought of sleeping with someone I don't know is terrifyin'. Before you, I'd only ever done it one other time, and it certainly didn't go well."

"Well, now I need to know this story!" I said. "What scale we talking? 'Couldn't get it up' or 'escaping out the window' kind of bad?"

"Oddly, a mixture of both," Emma answered. I was trying not to look at her, because I had intended on at least trying to keep this conversation light and I knew that whatever expression was on my face right now certainly wouldn't help with that. While at first I might've wanted to try and get as much detail out of her as possible, I was now wondering whether I even wanted to be having this conversation at all. She might've panicked and asked me to come and get her, but she was _happy_. It radiated off her like the rising sun, to the point where it almost hurt to look. Had she ever been this happy after spending a night with me? Had she ever gone humming into work, Libby and Sarah exchanging knowing looks behind her back? I wanted to know, but I also never wanted to know, and that scared me a little.

"You know, I don't think I ever would have guessed that you don't usually do this," I said.

"I'm sorry," Emma turned over her shoulder to shoot me a look. "did you just say that I act like a slut?"

"No – wait – w-what?" I glanced around as if to say _who said that?_

"Don't you go slut-shaming me," Emma pointed an accusing finger in my direction, the other holding onto the bars underneath us. "I'll sleep with whoever I damn well please!"

"Naturally, naturally, of course you will. I just meant that like," I began hastily, lest I accidentally get on her wrong side before she could even get tea down her. "when we first met, I had no idea. You were confident! You usually are. You're five foot one of pure sass. You could literally have whoever you wanted, but you've seriously only had three one night stands in your entire life?"

Emma shrugged slightly. "The first time was an utter mess and I guess I just didn't have the energy or motivation to try again afterwards. I was about eighteen, I went out with my friends the summer after I graduated Hogwarts and they convinced me that it was a good idea."

"Nothing can be worse than the time I came too early and accidentally smacked this girl's head against my bedside table."

"He spent the entire time thinking it was in when he was literally just rubbing it against my leg," Emma said flatly.

I blinked. "Shit, you win."

She snorted with laughter at that. "It was fucking mortifying! I faked an orgasm before legging it and I literally never did it again … until you, I guess."

" _You_ _faked an orgasm_?" I repeated. "You've never done that with me, right?"

"Nah," she said. "I figured if it wasn't gonna happen with you, then you deserved to know."

"Well, thank you … I think," I said. "Why'd you even sleep with me then, if the first time was so embarrassing?"

"Eight months before I met you was when I broke up with Mark," Emma admitted. "Hell, I think I was still in counselling when we first met."

"Fuck, _Emma_ ," I turned to look at her despite myself. "I didn't know that."

"Course you didn't," she said. "It's fine, I never said. I guess I slept with you because it ended up being perfect timing. If we'd met like a month earlier I probably never would have done it, but it was Halloween, I was feelin' confident for the first time in years and suddenly you were there tellin' me I'm hot and hell, I am!" She smiled and I think I nearly fell through the monkey bars. "I knew who you were, Libby had mentioned ya before so I knew you slept around and stuff. I figured there would be no pressure with you. And there wasn't. It felt good. Ugh, I'm sorry," she glanced over at me. "we probably shouldn't be talking about this kind of shit."

"I–" No, we probably shouldn't, but that didn't mean that I wasn't sitting there next to her in raptures, regardless. Quite honestly, I'd had absolutely no idea what I was getting into that first night I met Emma. I hadn't a clue what was going through her head and really, I didn't care to know at that point. If I had, would I have even gone for her? Probably not. But now I wanted her to keep talking. I wanted her to tell me about Mark, I wanted her to say that she missed whatever we'd had, and I wanted her to know that she deserved more than douchebags and idiots who freak the fuck out at the first sign of Feelings™.

Buuuut I should probably wrangle this train o' thought in before I did something REALLY stupid, _amiright_?

"It's ok," I said weakly.

"Are you sure? 'cause like, I know we try not to talk about it–"

"Look, Princess," I sighed. "It happened. We don't have to talk about it, but we don't have to ignore it either."

"Fred, are you … being rational?"

"Yeah, I think I drank something weird last night."

"I think I drank the whole bar, considering how my head is splitting open," Emma moaned, rubbing her forehead.

"The fireworks had barely finished by the time you were gone! How could you have drunk that much?" I scoffed.

"I think he had beer back at his place – oh, shit, I just realised that I can't actually remember that bloke's name," Emma admitted.

"That's how the best nights always go," I nudged her shoulder. "So go on! Was he any good? I was gonna tell him about that thing you like with your collar bone, but figured it might be a bit much."

Emma thankfully laughed. "It was nice."

"Just nice?"

"Fine, good! He was very good!" Emma said, eyes bright.

"But was–" I realised where that question was going and immediately faltered. NOPE, don't go there mate! I stumbled for something else to finish that with and came out stammering, "Was – it – uh–"

"But was I better?" Emma smirked at me.

"I wasn't gonna ask that!"

"Uh-huh."

"Seriously, I – oh, fuck it," I grumbled. "I'm going there. Was I better?"

"Yeah, I am 100% not gonna answer that," Emma said.

"PRINCESSSSS!" I whined.

"What, you want a rating? Out of ten? Perhaps a review?" Emma rolled her eyes. "Fred, you can't compare yourself. It wouldn't be fair on either of you."

"… so I was better, then."

"Oh, fuck off," Emma nearly pushed me off the monkey bars entirely. "Fine! Was I better than whoever you took home last night?"

"I didn't take anyone home."

Emma snorted loudly, but paused when I shot her a look. "What, seriously?" she asked.

 _It's sex with her, or no one at all_.

Shut the hell up, brain.

"Eh," I shrugged. "After you left, turns out I was related to everyone else."

Emma laughed and I ended up sniggering with her. As our voices trailed out, we grew quiet for several moments. I was ok to just sit there a while on top of the monkey bars and I think she was too. We stayed until the sun had steadily risen and the pink had given way to the dull blue-grey of London in winter. When we realised that we were both shivering, we finally climbed back down.

The arm around her was to keep her warm.

* * *

Up on the table, Auror Yael Ingleson was crying into his wine glass.

"I'd just like to thank my mum and dad for believing in me," he sobbed. "and to my – my amazing team! My – I mean – Kayla–" He pointed his tattooed hand towards his partner, who had tears streaming down her face as she grinned up at him. "P-partner, I couldn't have done this without you – and to our boss, Auror Huntley–"

"OH MY GOD, I am not drunk enough for this yet," Sapphire burst out through the crowded bullpen. Fifty faces turned to stare at her and she shrugged. "What? Yael, hurry up already!"

"… and to everyone else. Cheers," Yael muttered and the entire bullpen burst into yells and shouts of, "CHEERS!" I didn't have a drink to click against the glass of the Auror next to me, but I was able to accept the hug from him, despite never having met him before in my life. Sapphire was rolling her eyes as she threw back her champagne, Yael climbing down off the table and immediately moving to throw his arms around his partner. I watched as Kayla cried into his neck and he stroked her hair gently. I found myself having to look away.

The story of the Reddale Killer's trial had been in every newspaper imaginable, to the point where I had to wonder how Emma hadn't yet figured out on her own what my job was. My name had been mentioned as a witness multiple times now. When the several-days-long trial had ended with the jury out saying 'guilty' I swear Yael had broken down on the spot and Head Auror Donald Huntley had started singing _hallelujah_. People screamed. The judge cried. The court room had been in hysterics. Now, the time had finally come for sentencing, and later that afternoon, we would all be there to hear what fate awaited the son of a bitch who had strangled over 20 people. At first, I had wondered who on earth had authorised this impromptu celebration party in the Homicide bullpen that Yael had invited me to, but when Huntley himself had turned up, promptly downing a bottle of wine and yelling at Yael, "Speech! Speech!" in the first place, I had figured all office rules were out the window. Time to party!

"Honestly, do you always have to ruin my speeches?" Yael asked. He and Kayla had eventually made their way over, arms still around each other as someone behind us started blasting loud celebratory music. I noticed several Aurors up and dancing like it was still New Year's Eve.

"When you start crying, yeah," Sapphire sniggered. She glanced over at him and added, "I'd give you a hug in congratulations, but I'm unsure if you're ever gonna let the pretty one go, there."

The partners took the ribbing easy enough, even though I did notice their arms tighten a fraction of a second before they actually let go. Sapphire hugged them both happily as I assured, "Don't worry, mate! We love you and your tears, really."

"Honestly," Yael shook his head as Sapphire pulled back, now apparently already looking for a re-fill. "All of you should be emotional wrecks right now! We made it to sentencing! SENTENCING! The man is going to jail for life, and if we get lucky, we might even get a death sentence!"

"Look, to be honest, I still don't know if I even believe in the death penalty," Kayla shook her head. "Reddale's a murderer, but I don't think anyone in the world has the authority to say who lives and dies, not even a judge."

"Kayla, he murdered 20 people!" Yael said exasperatedly, like they'd had this argument a hundred times.

"And in return, we murder him?"

"He deserves it," Sapphire shrugged.

"Maybe he does, maybe the world would be a better place without him," Kayla countered. "but that's what's going to happen to him either way – put in Azkaban, the world's without him anymore. Isn't that enough?"

"Sorry, no," Sapphire caught the attention of a floating bottle of champagne at that point and cut herself off for a moment so that she could snatch it out of the air and take a swig. "C'mon, he strangled women just like us. He can die, I'm good with it! Want some?" she added, gesturing with the bottle.

Kayla accepted it. Taking her own swig, she answered back, "I just feel like there's no guarantee someone's innocent. Imagine if you sentenced an innocent person to the death penalty. We know it happens, how could you live with that?"

"You saying that Reddale's innocent?" Yael smirked.

"No – oh, come on, we literally witnessed him murder someone once!" Kayla sighed. "You guys don't get it – Fred, back me up, here!"

I jolted at being suddenly dragged into this conversation. Quite honestly, Auror politics and the law wasn't something I considered myself an expert on. I was a bounty hunter, I didn't have warrants or evidence to consider, just my wand and the order to bring someone in! I didn't feel qualified enough to talk about such a thing.

"Hey, I dunno!" I ended up shrugging. "I'm not the Auror, here."

"But do you believe in the death penalty?" Kayla asked.

"I believe if anyone deserves to die, it's Reddale," I said. "but as to whether we should keep the death penalty, I dunno. I think we've all arrested someone who's innocent before, but … damn it, guys, this shit's too depressing to be talking about after a wine or two, seriously!"

"Wait, who did you arrest who was innocent?" Yael asked me then. "Isn't anyone under your jurisdiction by definition already a convicted criminal?"

"Oh, honey, you don't want to be asking that," Sapphire laughed.

"Oi!" I said.

"Just saying!" Sapphire smirked at me. "Nobody wants to know about the time you accidentally arrested the perp's twin brother and the family tried to sue the shit out of you – GAH, FRED!"

"Don't think I don't have any embarrassing stories about you, Sapphire Bates!" I warned her, having grabbed her in a headlock.

"Ha, ha, very funny–"

She had no problem at all getting out of my hold. Yael and Kayla watched in amusement as Sapphire suddenly yanked my arm up my back, forcing me to the floor and stealing my wand from my back pocket. She held it up to my throat with a flourish and added, "Sweetie, don't make me tease you about your _giiiiirl_."

"I'd remark that she's 'not my girl' but that would just be adding fuel to the fire," I said, shaking her off me. She thankfully let me go with a laugh and I snatched my wand back.

"Oh, is this Emma we're talking about?" Yael was smirking now, accepting the champagne bottle as it began making its way around our small circle again.

"Mate, not you too!" I complained, climbing back up to my feet and shoving Sapphire in the arm for good measure. I tried not to tumble over as she shoved me back. "C'mon, last time you were so good at telling this one to knock it off and leave me alone!"

"Yeeeeah, but that was before you decided to be 'friends'," Yael pointed out.

"Sapphire, what'd you tell him?" I asked, furiously.

"Nothing!"

"Wait! Yael, is THIS the reason we ran a background check on that random Cursebreaker a couple of weeks ago?" Kayla cut in, indignantly. "You said that was for a case!"

"I'm sorry," I blinked. "Are you telling me that you guys ran a BACKGROUND CHECK on her?"

The partners exchanged looks.

"Uh, if it helps," Kayla said. "the only record we could find related to her was an eviction notice from about four years ago? We're assuming fell through, though, because there was no follow up …?"

"Oh my god," I muttered. "I didn't hear that! Nope, I'm going to pretend that you losers didn't seriously process my mate like a criminal, and I'm also going to pretend that I don't care about what you found out … noooo, not interested at all …"

"There honestly wasn't much else," Yael admitted sheepishly.

"Why wasn't I in on this?" Sapphire complained.

"Sapphire, are you an Auror?" Yael asked her.

Her furious look almost made him wilt and insist, _'Yes, you totally are, so sorry!'_

"I … mean …" he stammered. "Anything to do with Fred's messed up love life is of utmost importance to you and must be shared at all costs?"

"That's better," Sapphire said.

Kayla sniggered and whispered, " _Wuss_ ," into her partner's ear.

"HELLOOOO?" I burst out. "Background information that I definitely, possibly don't want to know about?!"

"Right – really, there wasn't anything!" Yael said, hastily coming back to me after the exchange with Kayla. "She isn't secretly married, not divorced, bankrupt or even have a drunk and disorderly charge. Nothing. She's clean."

"I still can't believe you ran it," I shook my head. "Don't you need probable cause for that?"

Yael and Kayla both hastily coughed and fought over the champagne.

"What? Is that Huntley headed our way? I must engage in conversation with him–!" Kayla began.

Yael grabbed her arm and yanked her back into his side. " _You're not leaving me, partner_ ," he hissed.

"Cool it, guys," I rolled my eyes. "I won't report you for this gross invasion of privacy that I may or may not possibly support. So long as you're confirming that she's not married or pregnant, I am cool."

"We never mentioned pregnant," Yael admitted.

"Is that even on file? Or would that be medical records–?" Kayla glanced behind her like she wanted to run and quickly pull up the file again to double check. Yael helpfully reigned her back in with an arm once again flung over her shoulders.

"Keep it together, girl," He laughed awkwardly before taking a large gulp of the champagne. "We read nothing of the sort, don't worry – I mean … we MAY have read nothing of the sort. Nothing happened, WE DENY EVERYTHING!"

I barely even knew what to say in regards to all of this, so I think I did the smart thing and just silently gestured for the champagne, finishing off the last of it. Aurors. They're nutters, the lot of them, but I had to admit that their work stories often got a lot cooler than mine. Should I even tell Emma what these idiots had gone and done? I kind of felt like I should, you know, because of the whole gross invasion of privacy thing (WHICH I DON'T SUPPORT … much) but like, if I did that, she'd have to find out my job, right? What the hell do I do? Keep the joke going, or confess about the idiots that I work with?

"… ORRRRR," I added just as Sapphire and I were sliding onto the end of the courtroom bench. "I take the third option! Tell her that my stupid colleagues ran a background check on her, but say it's because they're vetting her to be able to transport high-profile goods and artefacts for the bank!"

"You're putting a lot of thought into this," Sapphire noted.

"You don't think she'll buy that, do you?" I frowned. "Shit, better step it up. Besides, how do I justify myself knowing about it when she doesn't? Maybe Yael accidentally told me over drinks because we're mates who in no way met through work … cover story: we met at an underground sci-fi themed rave! I complimented his battle armour, he stole my lightsaber! It was friendship at first sight–"

"Mate, you're starting to get hysterical," Sapphire said.

"C'mon, normally you're all for this kind of wild story shit!" I said.

"Here's another option: tell the girl what your FUCKING JOB IS."

She said the latter end of that sentence rather loudly and got reprimanded by several disapproving people, all glaring and looking their best as they tried to cram gracefully into the courtroom. What felt like the entire wizarding community was here to witness the sentencing of Simon Fisherman, AKA, the Reddale Killer. It was getting to the point where people were being turned away because too many shoved into one room was apparently a 'fire hazard' or something. I dunno, in my opinion the less we have of those weird 'court watcher' people who actually get a kick out of watching trials, the better. I would much rather have just gone home and owled Emma, but I desperately wanted to watch Reddale realise his fate. Sapphire and I had managed to crawl into the aisle end of the first spectator bench. Behind the glass walls separating the crowd from the rest of the court, we had a very clear view of everyone, from the judge all the way to Darla the prosecutor (currently banging her briefcase down onto her table with a grim look of satisfaction).

"I dunno what you mean," I shrugged at Sapphire.

"Seriously, just tell her what your job is," she insisted once again. "Hell, you may even find that she thinks it's interesting."

"But it's so much fun watching her try and guess!"

"You're more interested in teasing her than actually genuinely having a conversation with her, aren't you?" Sapphire rolled her eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sapphire just scoffed. "Clearly."

"Hey, we talk perfectly fine!"

"No, you don't," Sapphire folded her arms with a smirk. "Face it, I told you that you couldn't be friends with that girl, and you know I'm right. If you had a proper, honest-to-god conversation with her about yourself, you'd be opening up. You'd be vulnerable. That's unfathomable to you, so you keep her at arm's length, teasing and talking about _Star Wars_ and other shit, but nothing important. Friends talk to each other about the things that matter. So I was right, and you can't be friends. Simple as that!"

I narrowed my eyes. "I can be genuine."

And it struck me that we were, despite what Sapphire might think. What else do you call that conversation on top of the monkey bars on New Year's Day? It was probably the first time we'd ever properly acknowledged our past and where we were now! Maybe it had been awkward at first, and maybe I had tried to keep her at arm's length, but any awkwardness in this friendship had slowly dissipated over time as we got used to each other. We got to know each other!

Oh my god, we are actually friends, aren't we? And I mean proper friends! Not just the ones you see and talk to occasionally, might hang out every now and then and ask about their new dog or flat, but she was a friend just as close as James and Libby. She could call me at six in the morning, and I would go bloody careening across the entire city of London just to make sure she felt safe. We could have a shit day at work and go and crash the other's flats to get cheered up. I could talk to her sister and I wasn't quite sure why I seemed to be spiralling NOW over this, of all bloody times, but it was happening!

Emma Terry was one of my best friends, _and holy shit, it was fucking terrifying_.

"You're FRED," Sapphire snorted at me then, thankfully jerking me out of the head-spinning meltdown for a moment at least. "When are you ever genuine?"

"Hey! I'm genuine when I tell you that I'm certainly not attracted to you anymore."

"Gee, thanks."

"Well, 90% genuine."

"See?" Sapphire pointed her accusing finger at me.

"One of these days you'll be proved wrong," I warned.

"I'm waiting on the edge of my seat," Sapphire smirked.

I might have continued arguing back, but that was when the court came into session and even my out of control spiralling had to come to a halt for the time being (yes, let's address that later!). The judge took her seat, a no-nonsense woman that I knew had signed many warrants to see Reddale come to justice. Darla caught my eye from across the room and gave me a small nod. Security detail was spaced around the room, wands in hands and many looks exchanged as Simon Fisherman was led to the stand in fiery chains.

It still disturbed me that he could look so normal. Tall and stringy, he could have been anyone. I think Sapphire felt me tense, because she linked her arm around mine and I didn't even protest. In fact, I squeezed her elbow back. The sentencing began like normal, but it was only ten minutes in when I noticed my eyes were narrowing. For some reason, I was starting to feel like something was off.

"Saph," I whispered while Darla continued reading off the list of Reddale's convictions.

"Sssh," she hissed back.

" _Sapphire_ ," I tried again. "I thought your ex-boyfriend worked as an Azkaban guard?"

"He does," Sapphire whispered in exasperation. "Fred, what–?"

"Thought I recognised him throughout the trial. Why isn't he working security today?"

Sapphire glanced at me in confusion, before looking up and at the witches and wizards who were policing Reddale and keeping him in check. There were six of them spaced around the room, with an additional two flanking Reddale either side. None of them looked familiar, but then they usually didn't, apart from Sapphire's ex who I only knew about because she wouldn't stop going on about him ("Seriously, it's not even funny how still into me is it anymore! The owls have gotta stop, or I snap,"). But the ex wasn't there today.

"I don't know," Sapphire whispered, though her eyebrows were knitted together.

"I don't think something's right."

"Fred, shut up," Sapphire said, glancing around. "People are gonna start getting annoyed with us talking! Hell, I'm getting annoyed–"

"I don't think they're real security," I realised.

I couldn't tell you how I knew. Maybe if I'd looked closer, I might've seen subtle hints, like a uniform that didn't quite fit properly, or that the guards were posted conveniently so that they left one wall of the court room completely exposed. But call it gut instinct, I could just tell something was wrong here, and I was out of my seat before I could think about it. People muttered and complained as I shoved past them and started making my way towards where Head Auror Huntley sat. Sapphire had done a double take, before hissing, " _Fred_!" and leaping after me.

"Auror Huntley!" I called out in a whisper. Several people looked around at that and the head of the Homicide Division glanced up at me with annoyance.

"Agent Weasley, what–" he began.

"… assault and attempted murder of a member of the law," Darla was reading out with satisfaction. "and finally, the murder of Muggle victims, within the proximity of other Muggles and surrounding areas–"

And that was when all hell broke loose.

Suddenly, one of the guards next to Reddale had moved. The judge glanced over in shock as the guard yelled a spell and the fiery chains around Reddale broke. The serial killer held up his hand and the guard tossed him his wand. Before anyone could even react, the judge was thrown off her podium and across the room. The other guards reacted with simultaneous blasting hexes and the glass wall shattered. Everyone started fucking screaming and Sapphire grabbed my arm, hauling me to the floor as shards rained down on us. The guards converged on Reddale, throwing up shields around him. The Aurors in the crowd had immediately surged forward and Huntley yelled out something, broken glass crunching as he leapt forward. But there was a loud BANG, and the unpatrolled wall was blasted through with a single curse.

Reddale was laughing and I stuck up my head from over the bench that Sapphire had pulled me behind.

There were no taunting words yelled back. There was no sly wink, or a swish of a villainous cape.

He and his guards were just … gone.

* * *

Naturally, panic fucking descended.

"LOCK THIS PLACE DOWN NOW!" Huntley was storming throughout the room, screaming down the intercom in his ear. "WE HAVE AN ESCAPED CONVICT – YES, IT'S BLOODY REDDALE!"

"What the HELL happened?!" Yael roared, tripping through the wreckage towards us.

"I don't know–" Sapphire began, grabbing his arm when he was close enough and staring up at the cut to the side of his face, where blood was starting to trickle down into his beard. "Fuck, did you get hit–?"

"It doesn't matter–"

"Yael!" Kayla was saying something else down her own intercom at the same time as she ran and joined us. "We've got to get – are you ok? – _you need to do something about it then!_ – SHIT, is that blood?" Her disjointed thoughts came to a close as she finally glanced at her partner distractedly and noticed the broken skin.

"I'm fine, we need to–"

"The hell it doesn't matter, mate, you're hurt," I pointed out.

"FRED!" Yael suddenly shouted. "Reddale has somehow orchestrated his escape from this court room right under my nose! Either you all help me catch the son of a bitch, or get the fuck out of my way!"

Blimey, I think that's the first time he's ever yelled at anyone quite like that. I let him have it, especially since he didn't protest when Kayla pressed a hand to the side of his face and sealed the shallow cut cross his cheek with her wand. I exchanged a hasty look with Sapphire, silently asking if she was still in one piece and like, thank you for throwing me to the floor. She had glass in her hair. She nodded grimly.

"Ingleson! Grover!" Huntley was back, yelling at Yael and Kayla from the door to the courtroom. His hand was pressed to this ear. "We have to head him off, come with me now!" He practically shoved people out of his way and we all tore after him.

I expected resistance when Sapphire and I stayed hot on their heels, but Huntley surprised me. "Weasley!" he barked. "I saw you move before anything even happened! What did you see?"

"I don't know, I just knew something was wrong!"

"My ex wasn't working!" Sapphire added.

" _What_?"

"Not the point – they weren't real guards, clearly–"

The courtroom corridors were packed with too many panicking people. It was impossible to battle our way through them to the lifts. Huntley swore, cutting across our attempts to explain as he was forced to change direction. Instead, we hurtled for the stairs and he threw open the door for us. "Ingleson and Grover!" he yelled. "Get a team out into the street, cover the front entrance! Weasley, Bates – shit, you're not Aurors–" He faltered a second before thundering on, "Screw it, we need the man power – control the crowds inside, we need to clear–"

Suddenly, another distant _boom_ sounded, rocking the stairs. Oh my god. It was only just starting to cut through my brain that this was INSANE. Like, the court house was located in Diagon Alley. Reddale was more than willing to kill to get his way and his goal at the moment was clearly to not go back to Azkaban. My dad worked only down the road, maybe even my sister, too. Emma was at the bank. Fuck, Libby and Clara might even be there visiting today! I didn't normally have this kind of worry at work! If anyone was in danger when it came to this job, it was me! I was usually totally fine with that, being a bail recovery agent wasn't entirely risk-free, but Reddale was _really_ starting to piss me off.

"He's gone!" Kayla suddenly swore down her intercom.

"What do you MEAN 'he's gone'?"

Kayla didn't answer, just lead the way thundering down the stairs and out onto the ground floor. I couldn't even begin to imagine how they were supposed to handle this. How was this even able to HAPPEN? There were anti-Disapparating spells over every bloody inch of the courthouse! The Trace was put back on all criminals on trial and their wands clearly taken from them upon arrest. Sure, magic could be performed by staff working, otherwise it would have been impossible for the guards to defend against any wandless or uncontrollable magic that sometimes burst out from emotional criminals, but COME ON! The man had been in JAIL the last several months, how on earth was he supposed to be able to put together an escape attempt like this?!

When we reached the courthouse lobby, it was to find it in a shambles. The security screening and subsequent front doors to the street beyond had been blasted out. Courthouse security members lay injured on the floor. Huntley was barking out orders, sending Aurors out into Diagon Alley and ordering that a lockdown of the entire street get set until the whole place was fully searched.

"Diagon Alley's huge, there's no way we'll find him!" Kayla cried, hands tight on her hips. "The moment he blasted his way out of here, he would have Apparated."

"He's still got the Trace on him," Yael said at once. "Any magic he does, we can track him!"

"Come on, he's already thought that far ahead!" Kayla argued. "Why do you think he had the guards bust him out? They're gonna do all the magic for him. I wouldn't even be surprised if he's got someone in at the Ministry who's qualified to lift the Trace for him!"

"A wand! He's going to need a wand," Yael tried again. "We need to get on the black-markets, get in touch with our contacts–"

"It's useless, Yael!"

" _Kayla_ ," Yael yelled in her face. He reached out and gripped her shoulders tightly and he didn't even need to say another word. Kayla let out a small sigh, reaching up and covering one of his hands with hers.

"I'm on it," she said.

Yael let her go as Huntley ran to shout at someone else and I was nearly bowled into by someone shrieking about calling mediwizards to the scene. We hurried out onto Diagon Alley to survey the damage and Yael groaned, rubbing his forehead. Sapphire and I glanced at each other and I knew immediately that we were thinking the same thing: that there was no way they were doing this by themselves.

"We need to help," Sapphire said before I could.

"You're not Aurors."

"We're aware," I said. "We still need to help–"

"Mate, the biggest case of my career just pulled a fucking escape attempt at his sentencing!" Yael cried. "Forgive me when I say that I really can't argue about this right now! How the hell could you even tell that something was going to happen?"

"I just felt it!" I said. "I honestly don't know what else to tell ya."

Yael just sighed. "Blimey, mate. Way to have a gut instinct. You _could_ be an Auror with that."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged. That was an idea, but maybe better discussed another time.

"Look," Yael said. "I appreciate you guys, seriously. And you're right, Huntley's right, we're probably going to need all the man-power we can get, so if you've got any other bail agents you can call in, do it. Go talk to Officer Ruth, she's the head of the law enforcement officers and they'll be the ones canvassing. Shit, there's too much to do, we need to secure all of the high-risk buildings, Gringotts, the Magi-Lab, oh my god–"

"Hey," I cut in quickly. "It'll be ok, mate."

"Yeah," Sapphire added, squeezing his arm. "you're gonna catch him."

Yael gave us both a weak smile, before moving to catch up with Huntley. Magical Law Enforcement Officers had already been called in by this point and were starting to arrive, so Sapphire and I were quick to track down Officer Ruth. Seriously, I couldn't go home and literally do nothing after this! Reddale tried to kill me, after all. If he wanted revenge … hell, two could play at that game.

"… so did you ALSO totally notice the way Yael and Kayla were looking at each other?" I couldn't help but ask Sapphire.

"Later, Fred," she snorted.

Naturally, the head officer took us demanding that we be a part of the team rather well.

"I don't care if Head Auror Potter himself ordered you here!" Ruth cried.

"I can arrange that," I pointed out.

"Look, idiot, you've got a psychotic serial killer out on the loose, potentially hiding somewhere down this street!" Sapphire burst out in a bout of impatience. "Forgive me, but you've got all of Diagon Alley to cover, so you're going to need as many people as you can. We're agents, we're registered magical law employees, we have the authority, so use us, damn it!"

Eventually, I think Officer Ruth just didn't want to argue anymore, especially since Sapphire had a rather good point. I kept eyeing down the street, Diagon Alley now suddenly crawling with officers, panicked shoppers and many confused store employees. Through the chaos I could just see the bright window displays of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. I seriously doubted that Reddale would hit up a joke shop, but that was my family down there. Call me a cynical bastard all you like, but _it was my fucking family_.

I was assigned to the bank.

Gringotts employed their own security guards, naturally, but considering what we'd just seen, anything could have been compromised. We were forced to take over, myself and several law enforcement officers commanding that all goblin tellers shut down and civilians not to panic. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to try and avoid the Cursebreaker Division, a part of the bank's buildings and also a part of the search. My need to know that everyone was ok was burning, but I also knew that this wasn't the time to get ridiculously emotional or whatever. This was the time to do my fucking job. I offered instead to search the main bank building, but naturally things didn't go as planned.

Stay calm, mate. Do your job.

I noticed her immediately, of course. She was in the middle of walking somewhere carrying a box full of sparkling stones, but was struck dead as the other officers and I quickly strode into the middle of the Cursebreaker Division. "Fred?" she called out, looking completely bewildered as I accidentally caught her eye. "What on earth–"

"Hold that thought," I called back, quickly.

"This building has gone into lockdown until further notice!" one of the officers I was with announced in the middle of the division. Everyone started piling out of offices to come gather around in the middle of the main corridor in confusion. Thankfully, it seemed that Libby wasn't in today, but Emma was definitely still there, watching us march in and take over with apprehension. "I'll need to speak to the director–"

"That's me," Despite the seriousness of the situation, I still cringed as I remembered beefy Director Gale from the fancy-dancy gala that Libby had dragged me too. I instinctively caught Emma's eye again and found myself accidentally sniggering with her at the memory of being grilled by him and subsequently being forced to dance. Jesus Christ, Fred!

Focus.

"There has been an escaped convict from the court house, all of Diagon Alley is being searched," the officer stated, causing mutters throughout the crowd. "I need all of your employees to stay out here in the corridor while my officers and I search the offices, break rooms, and any other areas in this building. Officer Smith!" he barked at his colleague. "You and the guys start down there! Agent Weasley, you go with them!"

I nodded and turned to join the team of officers who were aiming for the far end of the main corridor. Emma naturally darted after me. "Wait!" she called, dodging around her twittering colleagues and trying to catch up. " _Agent Weasley_? Fred, what's going on–"

"Do you know her?" one of the officers asked me.

"I got this," I said, hastily. I let them carry on while I turned and had Emma nearly run into me. "Whoa, hey there, Princess! So, how's it going–?"

"Cut it out," Emma slapped my shoulder. "What are you doing here? What's happened?"

"My dear officer friend back there summed it up pretty well," I shrugged. "Escaped criminal, Diagon Alley in lockdown–"

"But why are YOU here, _Agent Weasley_?" Emma pressed.

I sighed. "I'm working, _Agent Terry_."

"I don't understand, Fred, what–?" she cut herself off, frustrated and worried and for a moment I stared, remembering Sapphire's words in my head. _You're not really friends. You can't even have a proper conversation with her_. She was wrong, but maybe a proper conversation about my job was warranted. It scared me almost as much as Reddale being on the loose, and my head was suddenly screaming at me again, but now wasn't the time. I needed to protect her, I needed to do my job.

"I'm going to have to direct you to stay in the corridor while we conduct our search," I said.

"I'm comin' over later," she demanded at once.

I grinned. "You bet your arse you are."

* * *

Kayla had been right in the end: it didn't take long to realise that Reddale had vanished completely, but of course, procedure still had to be followed. Always knew that I hated procedure. The search was eventually dropped when it became clear that he was nowhere in sight, and much to our displeasure, Sapphire and I had been told to go home.

"But you need our help," I'd pointed out.

"What?" Yael had yawned.

"MMM 'WAKE!" Kayla had added, jerking suddenly upright and tossing over a bunch of empty pizza boxes in the process.

I mean, of course we weren't allowed into the investigation (some minor detail about us not being Aurors, or whatever) but that didn't mean that I hadn't been thinking about it still.

"I could be an Auror …" I ended up muttering out loud as I opened my front door.

"Honey, that brain of yours can barely comprehend taking the rubbish out," Mrs Ramsey called over from her flat across the hall. For such a despicable old lady, her voice certainly carried through the thin walls.

"FUCK YOU, MRS RAMSEY!" I yelled back over my shoulder.

"I heard about the escape! Shame you didn't die!"

"You tooooo!" I warbled back. I slammed my front door shut behind me and leaned against it warily. If I was any sane person, I'd probably actually feel more scared. A known killer, who had attacked me in the past, was out and most likely looking for revenge! But I could barely work up any fucks to give at that moment. I just wanted to help out, ok? Not necessarily solve the entire case, but at least lend a hand catching the bloke! I mean, that was my specialty, right? Tracking down idiots who thought that they could escape the law! I could be helpful!

I walked into my lounge and yelped.

"Holy mother of Merlin!"

"Explanation time," Emma said, sitting quite comfortably on my sofa, legs and arms crossed and still in her Cursebreaker uniform.

"Are we really at the point of breaking into each other's flats?"

"Our fireplaces are connected, is it really 'breaking in'?"

"You're actually crazy," I snorted. "How have I not yet noticed that?"

"Sit down, idiot," Emma just shook her head, pointing next to her.

"And now you're ordering me around in my own home," I pointed out. "Emma, you're goin' wild!"

"Seriously," she said, as I dropped down next to her with an overdramatic flourish. She huffed slightly as the movement jostled her. "I had to sit in the corridor outside my office for four hours of my shift today! What the hell happened? And don't just tell me 'escaped convict' because I may just kill ya otherwise."

"You ever hear of the Reddale Killer?"

"Yeah, his trial's all over the news," Emma said. "It's a bit depressing to read too much about, but even I know about him."

"If you'd read a bit more, you might've known that one Fred Weasley was a witness in his trial."

"What – _shit_ – Fred, seriously?" Emma unfolded her arms, looking at me like I was a little kid who'd just fallen down. "You were there today?"

"Yeah, we were supposed to find out his sentence, but he somehow he switched the guards and busted outta there," I admitted, trying to sound as casual as possible. Y'know, murderer broke free and could've killed us all … buuuut, we're alive so far! You know, bright side.

"What did you witness?" Emma asked, quietly.

I didn't answer for a long moment, unsure about how much to tell her and ultimately, how much I wanted to tell her. If she could tell me a little about her past, then the least I could do was talk to her about mine, right? I eventually said in a low voice,

"Attempted murder and assault."

"Jesus, Fred. When?"

"Ah, it was years ago," I said. "I was like, twenty years old or something. They called me up to stand at the trial, there was nothing much to it …"

"Was it you who was assaulted?"

I sighed. "Yeah."

Emma leaned back into my sofa with a whoosh, her shoulder pressing against mine. "Fucking Christ, Fred."

"Hey, don't worry! Like I said, it happened ages ago," I waved it off. "He was arrested on minor charges, no one had any idea who he really was or what he was actually capable of. He scarpered while out on bail, so I was … trying to track the guy down, basically."

"Look, if we have to have a serious conversation about your hobbies–" she began, only slightly teasing.

"It's my job," I blurted out. "That's what I do, I'm a bail enforcement agent."

Emma suddenly turned and stared at me.

"Oh my god. Did you just tell me what your job is?"

I shrugged. I mean, it'd been a running joke now for almost as long as I think I'd known her, but it was just … time for her to know. She looked like I'd just sprouted a third head though, so I nudged her shoulder and said,

"Don't go catatonic on me!"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I will be non-functioning for approximately another five minutes AT LEAST."

I rolled my eyes. "See, this is why I didn't tell you."

"I'm sorry!" she said again, shaking her head. "I'm just trying to picture it. Wait – what does bail whatever agent even mean?"

"I'm a bounty hunter," I rolled my eyes.

" _Seriously?_ "

"It's not as fun as it sounds," I told her quickly. "Look, I was barely qualified when I was assigned the Reddale case, only that wasn't the name he was going by back then … point is, I was an idiot. I knew he was inside the building, so I figured it would be easy: go in, tell him he needs to come back and face his charges, and if he doesn't then arrest him. I didn't sweep the perimeter, I wasn't staying in contact with any of the Aurors who had worked the case, who at this point were just starting to realise who he was … I went in blind. And he nearly strangled me to death. I was in hospital for three weeks and the guy escaped."

Emma let out a long breath. "I'm lucky to have even been able to meet you."

"Aw, I know that made it sound bad, but I swear–"

"Fred, it _was_ bad," Emma said firmly, turning over her shoulder and looking straight at me. "You don't have to downplay it. It sucks that that happened to you, but thank you for telling me. Shit, now that this guy's loose, he's not going to try and kill you again, right?"

"Nah, I doubt he even remembers me," I shrugged, jostling her shoulder on purpose to at least try and get a smile. "Reddale's usually a revenge killer, I didn't fit the pattern. I was just in the way."

"But you testified against him!"

"Along with dozens of others," I pointed out. "Emma, I'll be fine."

"Ok! Ok, if you say so, I'll believe ya," Emma said. "But jus' saying, you better be. And for what it's worth, I'm glad that you weren't hurt today."

"Yeah, yeah, same," I said. "Now let's watch another _Star Wars_ movie or something before you get all freaked out on me again."

We spent the rest of the evening watching _Rogue One_. Her head rested against my arm the entire time.

* * *

A/N: Look, I don't plan my stories. I just write and hope for the best usually, and to be quite honest, I thought Fred would have fucked up by now. But turns out he's actually being pretty damn solid atm, and his growth even between now and the beginning of this story is astounding! Praise him, guys. 'cause I'm sure there's gonna be more pain in the future eventually. :D

Also please note: 'cause this website went and gone done fucked up again, I almost couldn't reply to your amazing reviews at all this past chapter. So please note Reason Number 84295387 why I am in the process of moving all of this crazy universe to AO3. It's gonna take me a long while to update/re-vamp everything to my liking and get it posted, but I'll eventually do it. FF will always be GIR World's first home, and it'll stay here as well of course, but I've been on this site for 10 years. It's time to keep up with the times, lol.

But seriously, thank you. THANK YOU. I love every single one of your reviews and I love every single one of you who reads this and keeps reading, because you guys are the sparkling lil lights in my life that keep me going. I'm serious, I would never have finished WJML if it weren't for you guys. Please let me know what you think!

I LOVE Y'ALL.  
\- Moon. xoxo


	17. That one time I played cop

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 17: That one time I played cop.

It is a well-known fact that the Weasley family makes tea in times of crisis.

"This is bloody ridiculous," I moaned out loud to my dad. "I was literally the only one in any potential danger, and I'm totally fine! Can't I just go home–?"

"C'mon, Fred," my dad said pleasantly, throwing his arm around my shoulders and hauling me unceremoniously into his side. "Let your grandma have her fun."

"Force feeding us tea and biscuits? You call this fucking fun?"

"It's how the Weasley's operate, my dear son. Just humour her, she's old now."

"I'll say," I grumbled. Then, I glanced up at my oh-so hilarious dad and added with a smirk, "To be fair though, you're startin' to look more grey than red now! I say, is that _regrowth_ I spy? You're not dying your hair are you–?"

"It's a touch-up–! Oh, shut it," Dad had let go of me to thumb through his hair nervously, but caught me laughing. "Someday, you'll have hair as grey as mine! Then, you won't be laughing."

But I think my dad did look a bit old now, older than he did before the news of the Reddale Killer busting out of the court house and escaping, at any rate. I don't know why. Worse things have happened in our world over the years! Worse things had certainly happened in just his life. But the lines in Dad's freckled face seemed deeper since the last time I'd seen him, the reddish-grey hair more prominent, and the sad grin clear as day. Luckily, today seemed to be a good day for him. The moment I'd been told to go home after searching Diagon Alley, the first place I'd gone to was the shop because whatever, I supposed that I should go find out whether my family was still alive or not. I'd gotten there to find the shop only just being let out of lockdown, several scared shoppers almost reluctant to leave now that they could and my dad yelling at a poor law enforcement officer to tell him what the hell was going on. I'd explained the best I could in the most watered down, least-dangerous version as possible, but my dad had still exclaimed, "Shit, Fred!" and hugged me until my eyes bled (maybe an exaggeration).

After that, it had been quickly touching base with Yael and Kayla back at the Auror Office, before coming home to, of course, find Emma waiting for me. My arse had gone so numb, but I still didn't move the entire time we sat there together watching movies that night.

Sometimes, I could still feel her head against my shoulder.

Naturally, in response to the current crisis, what felt like the entire bloody family had now been called into the Burrow. My grandmother was literally a commander ordering all her field agents and spies in for a hostile takeover! Knowing better than to deny Molly Weasley when she was in Commander Mama Bear mode, almost every Weasley/Potter had done their damn best to take out a blustery January evening to have dinner together.

"Ha, ha," I rolled my eyes at my dad. "You are so funny. Where's Mum tonight?"

"She's still working," Dad told me. "You're sister and her boyfriend is here, though. I haven't met this one yet, but then again, I say that about most of Roxie's suitors. You know anything about this one?"

"Tall bloke?" I asked, glancing over across the crowded lounge to where Roxie and Boy Toy #26 were currently chatting to Victoire (well, I say chatting. My sister was basically just hugging his arm and giggling, but you can't reason with her).

"Says she thinks he might be the one," Dad mentioned.

"Literally every bloke she meets is the one."

"And what about you?" Dad raised an eyebrow, punching me good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Still actively avoiding your 'one'?"

"Dad, I don't think I even believe in such a thing as 'the one'," I scoffed. "You want grandbabies, talk to Roxie."

"Whoa, hey, didn't say anything about that," Dad mentioned. "You know that I couldn't care less if you wanted to sleep with the entire city of London – which I do refrain from trying to picture, because you are in fact my son – but I _do_ care that you are happy. Just let me know."

"Dad, I'm happy."

"Great!" he said, cheerfully. "Then we won't mention it again … eeeexcept, Roxie tells me you've been hanging out with a girl? I do forget her name–"

"No you don't," I said.

"Yeah, you're right. So tell me about this Emma!" Dad grinned, folding his arms with a _please, do tell_ , expression.

I threw up my hands. "She's Emma."

"I did gather that."

"There's nothing else to say! She's my friend, am I not allowed to have friends?"

"Roxie told me you used to go out."

" _Damn it, Roxie_!" I cried. "She's a liar, we did no such thing!"

"So why won't you tell me about herrrrrr …?" Dad teased.

"Oh, for god's sake," I muttered. "Look, maybe we got off a couple times before, but it was ages ago. We're just friends."

"Fred doesn't know the meaning of 'just friends'," Rose randomly put in as she walked past our conversation.

" _Shut up, Rosie_!" I yelled after her.

"Look, if you say you're mates, then fine," Dad shrugged. "I just want to know how my son is doing, that's all. Being put into lockdown because of an escaped criminal can really knock your perspective. As long as you're safe."

"I swear, I'm fine," I protested. "Dad!"

"You were at the trial and testified against him in court," Dad felt the need to remind me.

"Your point?"

"Just be careful," he frowned. "I'm your father, I'm allowed to worry."

"Right, this is getting ridiculous," I rolled my eyes, leaning around Dad and picking up a mini-pie that Grandma had baked off the randomly roving platter that moved throughout the room. "I'm outta here," I added.

"Fred," Dad said, exasperatedly.

"BYEEE."

Thank the lord I finally manged to get out of that conversation! Next order of business: murder my sister. Then, spend no more than thirty seconds reminding Grandma that I wasn't dead before blowing this joint. Roxanne was easy to find, although I reconsidered the murder, since there were, of course, far too many witnesses in this place. I'd start plotting later. After threatening her with bodily harm instead and hastily peeling Grandma's arms off of me, I thankfully managed to bail. I have no idea why my family gets so weird and protective like that! I mean, things like this _totally_ don't happen on a regular basis … ok, so admittedly after the shop explosion a couple years ago, I swear Grandma sent quiches to everyone for two weeks straight. Well, except for me and James. She was mad at us, apparently.

It's fine, I don't like her quiche anyway.

"That's a lie and you know it!" Emma laughed.

"Nuh-uh," I complained. "You don't know shit!"

"Your grandmother's cooking is the best! I could get all over that," Emma told me. She leaned back in her chair, kicking her booted-feet up onto her desk next to me. I lounged back against the worn wood, refusing to take her ribbing (and not just because she was right, damnit).

"Ok, fine, it might be the best," I admitted. "But it's still ridiculous!"

"She just wants to make sure everyone's safe," Emma rolled her eyes. "Honestly, it's actually a nice thing, so get over it."

"Easy for you to say – how the hell is this office even safe?" I asked, glancing around said office at the Cursebreaker Division in distaste. "I mean, seriously – is that actually–?"

"A crystallised skull?" she cut in excitedly.

I picked up the thing from one of the shelves behind her desk. "It looks like the guy was punched in the face."

"It was a woman," Emma leaned up and snatched the skull out of my hands. "And she's over two thousand years old, so a little respect!"

"Still looks like she got punched in the face."

"Well, I guess you'll just have to imagine why," Emma smirked.

"Caught cheating," I shrugged. "Uhhh … argument over rocks. Maybe she stole someone's potatoes. No wait! Lost a bet."

"D'you know anythin' about history?" Emma asked.

"I know … that _Star Wars_ was first released in 1977?"

"Fine, nothing to do with _Star Wars_."

I stared at her blankly for a moment.

"I got nothin'."

"Not even the Wizarding Wars against Lord Voldemort?" Emma asked. "Jesus, what did you do in History of Magic?"

"Same as everyone else! Slept. Oh, and snogged Cindy Leslie behind our text books."

"It's a wonder you passed school."

"Nice girl, that Cindy," I mused.

"I'll bet," Emma placed her crystallised and sparkling skull back on her shelf, flopping back down into her chair and spinning around to face me. "Seriously, though. You could've easily gotten hurt, so at least appreciate the fact that your family cares. I'm just glad that Katie and Henry are back at Hogwarts now."

"Ooh!" I added. "Tell Katie that I send my un-dying love."

"And send her into a heart attack?" Emma said. "No way."

"Can't help it that I'm a catch."

"My little sister's crush on you freaks me out enough as it is," Emma said. "I'm not encouraging it."

"Fine, whatever," I said, causing Emma to scoff and throw a balled up piece of parchment at my head. I dodged it and added, "Look, I know that my family is just being its usual batshit crazy self. I know that I could've gotten hurt, but I didn't. Reddale's in the wind, anyway. It's been over a week and we haven't heard a single thing about him. It's like he just vanished himself, if that were possible."

"It's not?"

"Trust me, Yael told me about this dude who tried to evade arrest by vanishing himself once," I told her. "Made his own head disappear, but the rest of him was still walking around and crashing into things! Admittedly, it took a while to restore it."

"I wanna meet these Auror friends of yours," Emma mentioned, then.

"What? Why?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Because apparently, they've got fantastic work stories! … also, they work with you and there's a slight chance I can get them to tell me embarrassing stories about ya."

"There it is," I rolled my eyes.

"You're just afraid it'll work," Emma used one of her feet resting on her desk next to me to poke my side. "Either that, or you're just embarrassed by your mates or somethin' and don't want to introduce me."

"They're not my mates," I said.

"Don't you work together?"

"Yeah, but we're not _friends_ ," I reiterated. She didn't get it. No one does. I don't have friends, not in that sense. People I hang out with, people I've chosen and they've chosen me to be in their lives. That's not the way I roll! Never has been, never will. But Emma was laughing at me again, and I've started remembering to fear for my life whenever she does that.

"Ok, Hotshot, how are they not your friends?" she asked.

"Simple! We're colleagues! That's all."

"You like them though, right?"

"I guess, but again, I work with them–"

"You can work with someone and not like them," Emma cut in over me. "But you do! You trust them, you talk to them and you hang out together outside of work time – don't deny it, I know you go out for drinks, you brought home Sapphire once, remember?" Emma rubbed that point in my face a little before finishing with a flourish, "Is that not then, the definition of a friend?"

I huffed a little. "I don't like you today, Emma."

"Don't worry, there are many days when I still don't like you," Emma grinned.

"And here was me about to ask you if you wanted to hang out tonight!" I cried dramatically. "I did have a reason for crashing your office in the first place, after all! But I guess I'll just take my offer to cook you dinner and watch a movie elsewhere."

"Aw, Bonehead, I wouldn't have come, even if I could," Emma said sweetly.

"Why, what're you doing?" I asked, dropping the dramatics for now, in favour of a frown.

"Got a date," she said.

"You? A DATE?" I scoffed. "Fuck off. Since when?"

"Since last weekend," Emma said, no doubt sounding so indignant because of my tone. "I got asked out randomly by a bloke at the supermarket, of all bloody places. I didn't think that actually happened in real life! I nearly blurted out no, but then I figured why the hell not?"

"I – well, hey!" I plastered on a smile and shoved her feet lightly. "Way to go, Emma Terry's getting herself out there!"

"It's a first date, slow down, Bonehead."

"You mean people actually do that?" I said.

"Go out for dinner and actually get to know each other before sleeping together?" Emma asked. "Yes, yes people do."

I snorted. "Ya. Ok."

"Please, everyone note Fred Weasley's sarcasm."

"Fine! Blow me off and go on your bloody date!" I snapped. A little too late I realised that my voice had gotten too harsh. I wasn't joking around anymore and she obviously caught it. I couldn't bring it in me to apologise though, so I just jerked my head away so that she couldn't watch my face. This could be a good thing. A great thing! All I wanted was for Emma to think of herself as nothing less than amazing, and knowing that apparently there were other blokes out there who thought the same had to be good for her. That one bloke who was too terrified to actually do anything, just had to sit back and let her have it.

I felt like screaming. I had literally thrown myself into this friendship with the intention of finally getting over her, and what have I fucking gotten so far? Me, sitting here on her desk and trying to stop myself from irrationally wanting to murder the idiot who had asked her out. Me, wanting to shake her and yell DON'T YOU REALISE HOW HARD I'M TRYING HERE? Or me, maybe still wanting to bend her over her desk and fuck her so hard that she sees goddamn stars and forgets literally everything else. I was sick of it, I was sick of the jealousy, I was sick of trying so fucking hard and absolutely nothing changing!

 _I just wanted to feel normal again._

"Fred …" she began.

"Nope! Nooooo," I suddenly cut in, looking back at her. Defuse. Smile. Nothing is wrong. "I'm sorry, Emma, that came out bad. Everything's fine! Seriously, have fun tonight. I mean … uh. Fuck. I'll see you later."

I left before she could start yelling after me, which I was thankful for. There was just too much happening inside my head and not enough space for it all. I was starting to get emotionally overwhelmed and I stopped once I reached Diagon Alley. Squeezing my eyes shut, I breathed in harshly. Get a hold of yourself! This was no time to have another fucking meltdown, technically I had to get back to work. Don't think about Emma. Don't think about her actually having a life outside of you. Don't think about the fact that you haven't had sex at all since you started this fucked up friendship with her.

My brain was spiralling, I could feel it spectacularly going, but thank the lord some concerned passer-by apparently noticed. A lady asked me if I was ok, and it was enough to make me force it back. I nodded and assured her that I was fine. Get to work, Fred. That's what you need right now! Tracking down an apothecary-thief, that'll get the brain focused again! I started dragging my feet though when I realised that of course, getting back to work would mean going home to my desk. I used to like working from home, but it did tend to shut you away from everyone else. At this point, I knew I couldn't be alone with my thoughts.

I knew where I wanted to go.

"Greetings, my dear Aurors!" I ended up yelling about half an hour later. Yes, fight me, I ended up packing up my entire desk back home and crashing the Auror Office. Yael looked up in bemusement from his table in the Homicide bullpen while Kayla just rolled her eyes, going back to the large whiteboard that she was busy scribbling notes on. I had simply slammed down my bank records of the idiot I was chasing onto the table and greeted Yael with my outburst.

"Fred," he answered. "Lovely to see you. Sorry we can't hang right now, bit busy trying to hunt down a serial killer for the billionth time in a row."

"Don't worry, I'm just here to do business," I assured him.

"You do realise that you don't actually work here, right?"

"My flat is boring."

"So naturally, your first thought was 'come annoy Auror Ingleson'?"

"Nah, it was come annoy my buddy, Yael!" I grinned.

"Ok," Yael apparently gave up on his notes, dropping them to the table for the time being and turning towards me. "Apparently we're doing this. For the record, if Auror Huntley catches you here, he will throw you out, and I will do absolutely nothing to stop him."

"Yeah, yeah," I waved a hand. I could handle Huntley. Besides, just being here was working wonders for my current state of mind. I don't know what the fuck that had been earlier, but it was almost over now. I felt calm already! Just don't bring it up, don't think about her and you'll be fine.

Instead, I asked about the case. "So how's the whole 'finding Reddale' thing going?"

Yael sighed, apparently accepting this conversation as Kayla turned around, exchanging a consoling look with her partner. "It's not, really," he answered, warily. "We've made a timeline with a list of sightings but there's barely been any. I don't know how he does it, every time he gets away it's like he's a ghost! And he always does manage to get away, we can never hold him. Hell, we got as far as finding him guilty in a court of law, and he STILL managed to evade us!"

"What about the guards who helped him?" I asked.

"They weren't actual guards, surprise, surprise," Yael said. "All eight of the _real_ security guards were apparently relieved of duty and whoever the hell these guys were showed up in their place. We've been trying to track down where the order came from, but there's no paper trail at all. We also found the bodies of all eight fake security guards about two days ago."

"Shit, seriously?" I asked.

"All of them strangled," Kayla answered, grimly.

"So Reddale got rid of them all to cover his tracks?" I said. "Fuck, this guy is seriously killing it."

"Fred!" Kayla tried not to snort with laughter as Yael groaned into his arms. "You may find that here at the Homicide Division we do not find murder puns amusing."

"Aw," I said. "But I figured you guys could do with a smile!"

"Do I look like I'm smiling?" Yael asked, lifting his head back up. "Oh and by the way, we think you're safe for the time being," he added.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, our first angle when we started this whole investigation again was that he wanted revenge," Yael explained. "It's usually what motivates him, you know that. Trust me, our criminal psychologist had a fucking field day with this case. We immediately moved protective details over the key witnesses who testified and anyone else who might have helped convict him, but nothing's happened yet. No doubt we'll notify you if we think you might be in danger."

"Ah, danger's my middle name," I shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah, Mr Daredevil. I'm still letting you know," Yael said. "and for god's sake, at least be careful out there, yeah? I'd hate for you to be the next victim."

"Your concern is touching, Yael."

"Yeah, you're welcome. Now, if you don't mind, I really need to start going through these documents–"

"Yael, give it up," Kayla sighed, watching him carefully. "You've read them through six times now! I know, I've been counting."

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" he turned and snapped at her.

Kayla was barely even phased. She just moved forward and stood close to his side, winding an arm around his shoulders gently. "Look, I know. I know we're stuck and we don't know how to move forward with this yet. But we will, ok? We've barely slept and I don't think you've shaved for months," she added, smiling slightly as she reached down and playfully yanked at Yael's bearded chin. He jerked himself out of her grip, but at least he was smiling.

"I'm actually starting to like the beard now," Yael admitted. "I'm thinking I may just never shave again."

Her laugh in response told me that Kayla probably wouldn't mind such a thing.

* * *

A few days later, a stroke of chance happened to work out in Yael and Kayla's favour. A break away from the case was what they needed and a break came! I was called into work that morning and was still trying desperately not to think about Emma and the date that she must have been on by now. She hadn't spoken about it since first mentioning it, and I sure as fuck hadn't asked. I didn't want to risk my head spiralling like had it had done earlier, so naturally the best solution was to avoid the topic altogether. I strolled into the Magical National Insurance Company and found Sapphire in the lifts, also on her way up to level three.

"Hey, Fred, good morning!" Sapphire said with a grin as I stepped in next to her, blowing on my coffee.

"We're not close enough for that."

"Hang on, then–" Before I could even protest, Sapphire snatched the to-go cup out of my hands and took a large gulp of my coffee. Handing it back, she said, "There! I'm fairly certain we're close enough for a good morning now."

"You … are fucking nuts."

"Buuut, you love me," Sapphire laughed. "So come on, how come you're in the office today? Last I heard you didn't have a new case."

"Nah, but the boss called me in," I said. "I dunno why, didn't give a reason. Either I'm about to be fired, or he found the pot plant I've been stuffing reports into all year when I can't be bothered finishing them."

"I've been called in too," Sapphire admitted. I exchanged a rather uneasy look with her, since I don't think we'd ever been called in at the same time before. Usually, we were just handed a new assignment, worked the case, handed in the paperwork, then lathered, rinsed, and repeated. What we did was actually fairly solitary job. We clattered out onto the third floor and noticed a few other familiar faces. "That's weird – wait, Danielle!"

She called out to another bail agent, Danielle Baker, who I'd seen around the office a few times. She wore grey cardigans, was very eager to please, and I'd admittedly never spoken much to her before. She was hanging around outside our boss' office, along with two other agents I knew by face, rather than by name.

"Agent Bates," Danielle nodded formally. "Agent Weasley. You've been called in as well?"

"Yeah, do you guys know what's going on?" Sapphire asked, glancing up at the other guys.

I couldn't remember the names of the other two – Henry or Harry or something – but one of them shook his head and answered, "Nah, we just got here. Agent Jeffers wanted us all in there once you two had arrived. You don't think we're in trouble, do you?"

"Hell if I know," Sapphire shrugged.

Luckily, we were seen into our boss' office fairly quickly once we'd turned up. "Thank you for all making it into the office this morning," Agent Jeffers eventually began once we had all sunk into the conjured chairs crammed into his office. "We've called you in because we've had a request from the Auror Office. They're carrying out their annual training simulation today for their current field Aurors and they wanted some bail agents to play hostages. You five were the ones without any currently open cases, so be at the Auror Office in half an hour."

"They want us?" I said in surprise. "We've never been asked before!"

"In the past, they've mostly used their receptionists and secretaries," our boss said. "They are quite effective in creating a realistic scenario when rescuing an average hostage who isn't familiar with the field, but they're trying something new this year. They also wanted hostages who are a bit familiar with the field, so that in a few of the scenarios you can pretend to turn on them."

"We get to be bad guys?" one of the Henry's asked excitedly.

"If this means I get to beat up Yael and Kayla, then I'm in," Sapphire grinned.

"We still get paid for this, I'm assuming?" Danielle added.

"Like usual," Agent Jeffers answered. "I've already told them that I would provide five agents, so it's non-negotiable. Have fun! Oh, and Agent Weasley," Jeffers added, just as the rest of us were standing up and chatting enthusiastically about the possibilities of what we'd just been offered/told to do. I gritted my teeth and turned to face my boss.

"Oh, yessir?"

"If I get any more complaints from Head Auror Huntley about you crashing his bullpen, there'll be hell to pay," he growled. "The bloke's doing my head in!"

I just grinned. "You can tell Huntley that it's been a pleasure."

"I mean it."

"So do I!"

I think that even if we hadn't been ordered, we probably would have turned up at the Auror Office anyway. What with the Reddale Killer still out there, moral had been rather bleak in the Homicide Division, as I'd seen through the defeated gazes of Yael and Kayla. Had Reddale remained in custody, he probably would have been in Azkaban and sentenced for life by now! As it was, it had been roughly two weeks since he'd escaped, and he was still currently in the wind somewhere. I hadn't been expecting to turn up at the office to find the entire place in an excited uproar, but that was what we got! Turns out it was Head of Department, Auror Harry Potter himself who was waiting to greet us, so I waltzed in with a wave naturally and called out,

"Yo, Uncle Harry!"

"Fred," Harry just shook his head at me with a smile. "Thank you to you and your colleagues for coming in today, we appreciate it."

"Cut with the chase, so who's kidnapping us?" I asked enthusiastically.

"No kidnapping," Harry said. "Well … much. We might tie you up a little before some scenarios, don't worry, we'll explain it all."

"Aw, but I wanted to stage a heroic fight to the death!" I complained. "Uncle Harry, you're goin' soft."

"Am not," Harry smirked back.

"So you're not still showing everyone you meet pictures of your baby granddaughter then?"

" _She's three months old and adorable_ –!" Harry began, but he hastily cut himself off with a cough when he noticed some of the other heads of the Auror Office staring at him. Sapphire suppressed a snigger behind her hand. "I mean," he added. "we figured it was for your safety."

"Super chill, nice save," I noted.

Harry shot me a look, but took that moment to greet everyone else. We stood in the lobby to the Auror Office, the large reception desk taking up the middle of the space while around sat sofas and coffee tables for visitors and witnesses. Corridors branched off as the office had expanded over the years, to the point where I think it actually spanned the entire second floor of the Ministry of Magic (the amount of times I'd heard Uncle Harry complaining about their requests to be relocated to a bigger building being denied was enough to kill me). Everyone was milling around the lobby and chatting excitedly, the jumble of voices carrying no doubt throughout the entire office. The Aurors all appeared to be wearing the same form of training gear – dark trousers and logoed jacket, with a different coloured t-shirt, depending on which division they were from.

"So like, if we do this well, can we get a free t-shirt?" I asked.

"No," Harry said.

"But what if–?"

"OK!" Harry yelled, cutting me off to address my fellow bounty hunters as I just snorted. "Welcome, Agents! Thanks for volunteering today–"

"Yes, we're totally volunteering," Danielle scoffed under her breath.

"Let me explain how it's going to work," Harry continued. "This'll go for most of the day, we're re-training practical and basic field skills that every Auror learns when they go through training. We've got several condemned buildings out in the industrial district, which we'll head to soon, where we'll set up various scenarios for each division to face. You may find that amongst themselves, the Aurors have made things interesting," Harry tried not to look too amused by that. "Just putting it on the record that as head of this department, I do not condone gambling in the workplace … anyway. We've got several of our receptionists playing civilians with you, and we want you lot to be anything from bad guys to injured victims. We'll brief you before each scenario. Any questions?"

"Do we get to curse anyone?" Henry #2 raised his hand.

"Not seriously," Harry answered.

" _Nice_ ," Henry #1 added.

"Anything else?"

I stuck my hand up. "About that free t-shirt–"

"Nothing? Ok, let's get out of here!" Harry said, cheerfully.

We Apparated in staggered groups across the city into one of the old warehouse buildings owned by the Auror Office. There seemed to be roughly fifteen odd Aurors from each division, ranging anywhere from Homicide, to Violent Crimes, to Family and Child Protection. "Heeeey, Yael!" Sapphire called out brightly, slapping him on the shoulder as his team showed up, everyone hanging around in the large workshop floor as we awaited the first briefing. "Ready to get your arse kicked?"

"You're assuming that we're going to suck!" Yael protested, clad in Homicide's red t-shirt. "We're the ones who went through field training–"

"Yeah, like ten years ago," Sapphire said.

"Seven and a half years ago–"

Behind Yael, Kayla coughed the number, " _Eight_ ," into her hands.

"That's enough out of you," Yael smirked at her. He turned back to Sapphire to add, "So shut up, you're not even an Auror! You just have to be a hostage."

"Not when I go rogue and decide to attack your scrawny arse," Sapphire pointed out.

"Scrawny?!" Yael seemed positively offended at that. "I work out every day!"

"So he says," Kayla mentioned. She snaked a hand around Yael's admittedly bulging bicep and added, "Haven't done much of anything latelyyyy–"

"Piss off," Yael said fondly. "You try keeping up a routine when Reddale's still out there! We shouldn't even be doing this. Kayla, you know we need to be working the case as much as we can–"

"Hasn't it been weeks?" Sapphire asked. "You could probs use the break."

"See? Listen to the girl, she knows all," Kayla said.

"I am pretty clairvoyant," Sapphire tossed her hair over her shoulder.

I grinned as he took the digs. Yael couldn't deny that at the end of the day, he was as sweet as a pancake, even if he liked to hide it behind beards and tattoos. Quite honestly, I was grateful for the distraction that this day had turned out to be! Even if pretending to be held hostage was mind-numbly boring 98% of the time, which is what I found out. Most of our morning was spent sitting tied together while the Aurors got all the fun in beating each other up! At one point, we were all forced to yell and duck as Violent Crimes had it out with Burglaries and Theft when they got into a fight over who had won the scenario.

" _The clock will remain running until all of the perpetrators are taken out_ ," the voice of one of the heads had called down the intercoms in everyone's ears, much to everyone's displeasure. Eventually, after a ferocious duel involving a leg-locker curse, about three 'yo mama' jokes and one embarrassing story from the weekend (" _You were soooo drunk_!") Burglaries finally took out all of VC and rescued us.

And time for the next round.

It made for a boring morning, but finally we started to change scenarios as the day wore on. For an hour, we had to be dead bodies. In another scenario, we got to act as hysterical and unhelpful as we possibly could (which, admittedly, had been kinda fun). Finally, we got to play bad guys at one point, springing an ambush on whatever Auror team was up whenever we wanted. Eventually, Sapphire was grabbing my shoulders in excitement when we were told that the receptionists were going to be innocent civilians being held hostage while the bail agents and I were going to be Aurors that had gone rogue. We were to work alongside whichever division was up until whenever we decided we wanted to suddenly turn on them and be working for the captor.

"Let it be known on the record that I am highly uncomfortable with this scenario …" Yael was muttering as he led the way down our current warehouse corridor. The Homicide Division had been divided into groups, Yael's consisting of himself, Kayla, and two other Aurors that they apparently worked with rather closely. I had unfortunately been partnered with Danielle while Sapphire went with another Homicide group, but I'll take one for the team. The clock had officially started! I couldn't wait to go rogue, and was starting to maybe admit that this training day was turning out to be rather fun.

"Dun-dun-d-duuuun-dun …" I muttered under my breath.

"Fred, are you singing?" Yael asked.

"I am not Fred!" I insisted. "I am Auror Weasley! You think I'm just a bloke you work with, but you don't know about my dark and tragic past …"

"What, that you were raised by trolls?" Dannielle huffed.

"Whoa, Dani, I think I'm beginning to like you," I put in then. "When we're out for the day, hit me up, we could get a drink–"

"Team!" Yael cut in. He held out an arm to halt us while Kayla cleared a corner without him even needing to ask her to. She gestured and we all followed into the corridor beyond. All our wands were raised, tracking the hostages to their prison. "Could we please refrain from flirting while we're on a rescue mission?"

"Besides, you disgust me," Danielle mentioned.

"Fair enough," I shrugged.

That was when we were suddenly attacked by the Magical Damage Division, currently playing the captors holding the receptionists. I yelped slightly as Yael barked out orders, diving behind an upturned desk in the middle of what appeared to once be a large office bullpen. I briefly considered switching sides then, but I realised that I was having far too much fun playing Auror. Instead, I took my own cover, throwing hexes at the Magical Damage team. "Fred! You're too far up, fall back!" Kayla yelled out to me. I took a chance and leapt to my feet, managing to take out two from Magical Damage, before leaping behind Yael's desk.

"TELL ME YOU SAW THAT?" I yelled, gleefully.

"I thought you were going to start firing on us for a moment there," Yael said in response.

"And miss out on fighting alongside you?" I asked. "No way! Plus this is a good a time as any to ask you what's the deal with you and Kayla."

Yael silently panicked as the corner of our desk was blasted off.

"We're in the middle of a rescue!" he eventually burst out. He was also quick to add, "Liam, Danielle! You guys can advance level with us!"

"Aw, c'mon," I said. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Coming from you," Yael said, turning away from me and again hurling hexes across the room. There were only two more Aurors left to take out. "Who won't even acknowledge what you probably feel for Emma, this is a bit rich, don't you think?"

I cringed against another blast hitting our desk.

"Admittedly, very true," I said.

"Shall we drop it then?"

"Gladly!"

I was happy to oblige as Kayla dropped the last Auror firing at us. She whooped and Yael was looking at her like she was the fucking sun despite everything that I had said, but maybe I address that more when I wasn't being quite so hypocritical. Our little team carried on through the building until we finally reached the room where the hostages were locked up. It was guarded by at least six Aurors from Magical Damage. I knew that Yael was technically in charge of this mission and that his plan was to apparently wait until the other groups from Homicide caught up, then storm the place all at once.

Hahaha. Let's ruin that.

"I'M GOIN' ROGUE!" I suddenly yelled, hitting Yael straight in the chest with a scorching hex.

"What – OUCH! No fair, Fred!" he cried, having been thrown back into the floor. He was just struggling onto his elbows, glancing down at the scorch mark on his uniform in dismay as I ran for the Magical Damage team, Danielle following me in exasperation.

"I have switched teams! Now we shall crush you! MWAHAHAHA!"

With only three against eight of us, we totally annihilated the rest of Yael's team! Homicide's attempt at rescue officially ended when we kept picking on each group of the team one by one as they showed up, more rogue agents teaming up to take everyone out. Yael swore in frustration when the last of them were scorched and the Magical Damage team cheered in triumph.

"And that's how it's done!" I laughed, walking over to him. "C'mon, mate–"

I held out a hand. Yael rolled his eyes and let me pull him to his feet.

"Well done, Homicide, on that completely mediocre attempt at a rescue!" Huntley called out as we all trooped back into the main hangar floor where everyone waited their turns to run a scenario. "Auror Ingleson, you were primary on that one, can you tell me what the hell went wrong?"

"I thought it was a good idea to wait for everyone before attacking, but the rogue agents turned and took us out," he muttered.

"And we were AWESOME at it!" Sapphire added, leaning her elbow heavily on my shoulder.

"Correct," Huntley answered. "You're running it again, and this time, Auror Grover's taking primary. Maybe she'll do a damn sight better than you. Right, everyone! Go over to the screens and watch your horrible selves in the re-run. Make bloody sure you can tell me where you went wrong! As for the bail agents," Huntley added, as the Homicide team warily trudged over to the viewing screens, where they had been providing magical surveillance during the run. "You need to prepare for the next attempt, Vice is up."

We had begun making our way over, Sapphire digging at Danielle and the Henry's chatting happily as we did so, but Huntley called me back.

"Auror Huntley, sir!" I said cheerfully once I'd approached him once more. "Wish to hear more of my gorgeous voice?"

"Agent," Huntley looked very much like he wanted to strangle me, but thought better of it. He held himself up high, arms folded across his wide chest, but he was also watching me appraisingly, like he'd been mightily surprised by something. "As much as I openly despise your personality and the fact that you can't seem to stop harassing my employees, I have to admit you have some field skills. Have you ever considered a career with the Aurors?"

"No," I admitted, taken aback. "Not seriously, at least."

"Well, you might want to consider it," Huntley said. "Applications for the upcoming training year in September are open. Got to have it in by first of May and interviews and field auditions are held throughout the summer. I think you have what it takes."

"Are you for real?" I was grinning at Huntley, sure that he had to be joking.

He shot me a look. "Did you want me to tell you that you suck instead?

"Oh, no, this is too precious."

"Then it's settled," Huntley shrugged. "You got some time to think it over, but if you applied, I'd see that you make it at least to the interview stage. After that you'd be on your own, but I doubt you'd need much help. Now hurry up, they're waiting for you!" He chivvied me off after the rest of the bail agents, about to start the next run.

Blimey, half the time I think that man's a robot, and then he goes and does something like that! As the day finally started winding down to a close, I wasn't quite sure what to think. Sure, what person doesn't imagine quitting their job and becoming an Auror at some point in their lives, at least if just for fun? I'd imagined it on several occasions, and was familiar with the office from working fairly closely with them, but I'd never _actually_ considered making the jump. It would be a hell of a lot more dangerous than what I currently did. But quite honestly, I'd been thinking about it more and more often lately. I'd shown up today without the logo jacket and found myself jealous that everyone got one but me. I'd been able to play Auror today and it was probably the most excitement I'd had at work my entire five years of being a bail enforcement agent!

"I think Huntley just gave me a job offer …" I mentioned to Yael at the end of the day.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"Yeah, he pulled me aside after scenario … honestly, I've lost count, it was the one where I got to go rogue on you guys?"

"Oh, you mean the run where you point blank CURSED me?" Yael asked.

"Yeah, that one," I grinned. "He told me that I should apply as an Auror! Said if I did, he'd make sure I got an interview."

"Oh my god, seriously?" Yael asked. "That's crazy!"

"Crazy incredible, or crazy 'holy fuck, I resign the day this bloke becomes an Auror'?"

Yael snorted. "I'm still debating. But that's honestly an amazing offer, I can't remember Huntley ever endorsing someone before. Are you going to do it?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. "Never really thought about it before."

"You did all right today," Yael pointed out. "I reckon you'd be great."

I wasn't really sold, but apparently several Aurors from Yael's team were going out tonight to relax after the day of taking down fake murderers and such, so I got myself invited so that I could tag along. Once we had all relocated to the Muggle pub, I noticed that jackets had been thrown off in favour of passing round drinks, cheerful laughter punctuating conversations as everyone talked about that day's training. I joined Yael at our table and saw him trying to catch his partner's eye from across the room.

"So do you still think this day was a waste of time?" I asked.

"It wasn't a waste," Yael sighed. "But you don't understand, Fred. I need to catch Reddale," Yael ground out the words forcefully. "Like, I _need_ to. My life is a mess because of it. I'm being forced to live and breathe it just to try and catch him, but I promise you that Kayla and I are going to. It's literally all I can think about right now."

"That girl keeps you together," I mentioned casually. "Doesn't she?"

Yael glanced over at her again. Her auburn hair was a mess, but she was talking happily to the barman as he poured drinks and Yael spoke like she was the most beautiful creature to ever exist. "Kayla's my rock. My partner. Maybe you had a point earlier today, but this case is devouring us, mate. Until it's over … I really don't see how we could make anything work."

"Look, mate, don't listen to me," I shrugged. "I'm sorry, I'm a hypocritical dickhead sometimes. Just keep doing you. Catch the bastard and it'll all work out."

I don't think Yael quite believed me, but he was happy to accept the Firewhiskey Kayla brought back for us all without hesitation.

* * *

I didn't know how I felt about going to see her.

I'd been harsh with Emma back in her office several days ago, and I hadn't exactly apologised for it. I couldn't really, without drawing attention to the fact that I had snapped in the first place. I was scared that she would bring up the date, I was scared that she would want to talk about it, but I hadn't seen her since that day and I missed her. The more time I'd spent this evening with my work colleagues (and yeah … maybe my friends too) at the bar, the more excited I'd seemed to get about the idea of applying as an Auror! It was a bit of a fantasy come to life, and I desperately wanted to tell her, but yet here I was. Once again standing outside her flat and wrestling with myself to just go and knock on the fucking door.

I felt my brain start to panic again, but I pushed it down.

She's your friend. It'll be fine.

"Somethin' SOOOO COOL happened today!" I yelled when I finally knocked and she opened the door.

"Fred, it's nearly midnight," Emma yawned, standing there in her fluffy pyjamas.

"I knoooow, but I have to tell you this!" I insisted. "Wait, are you wearing a Yoda onesie?"

"So what if I am?"

"It's cool."

"I will forever take pride in being the one to get you into _Star Wars_ ," Emma said, sleepily. "Fiiiine, come in. I'll just be a zombie at work tomorrow."

"DON'T MIND IF I DO!" I bounded straight in, Emma shaking her head as she shut her door behind me. I'm not kidding when I say she was wearing a Yoda onesie. You can't make that shit up. It was fuzzy and green and when she pushed the hood with the ears down, it made her hair fizz and crack with electricity. "Do you want tea?" I asked her. "Oh, fuck tea, GUESS WHAT HAPPENED TODAY?"

"You got a little drunk?" Emma guessed as I had leapt inside and nearly pitched over in the process.

"We were celebrating," I defended myself. "So Huntley told me that I was like, the fucking Shizznit today, and that I should apply for Auror training this coming September! He said that he would get me an interview! HE SAID THAT!"

"Whoa, wait," Emma appeared to be trying not to laugh as she grabbed my arm and heaved my unsteady self towards her lounge. As I flopped down onto her sofa, she asked, "Who the hell is Huntley?"

"Senior Auror, head of the Homicide Division. Generally doesn't like me, but today we became BFFs."

"He wants you to be an Auror?" Emma asked.

"Can you believe it?" I grinned. "He said he'd make sure I got an interview! Hahaaaa, knew he couldn't resist me! I am the best, of course."

"When do you have to apply by?"

"Oh, it's not for ages. It's just an idea at this point, but I dunno. Everyone kept talking to me at the pub and saying I should do it. I think we all know I'd have it in the bag, at least."

"But that's brilliant!" Emma said. "If you did, you'd get to be Auror Bonehead."

"The Auror and the Princess!" I exclaimed. "That's you and me!"

"Well, I thank you profusely for making me get out of bed and insisting on telling me this right when I was trying to go to sleep," Emma told me through another yawn. "You're lucky you didn't wake Charmaine, she would've killed ya. How drunk are you? Can you get home by yourself?"

"Oh, yeah," I used her shoulder to haul myself upright. "Just shove me in the fireplace, I'm cool, I'm cool–"

"I'm sure," Emma rolled her eyes, before standing up. I tried to wave her off, but she insisted on helping me. I apparently could have 'injured myself' or 'taken out an eye' if I'd attempted moving by myself according to her, despite the fact that her fireplace was like, barely ten steps away.

"Owl me in the mornin', Fred, ok?" she asked once I was holding on securely to the mantel piece. "I feel like I haven't seen ya in ages!"

"That's 'cause you haven't," I complained.

"And who's fault is that?" she said. "I'll see ya later then, yeah? You can tell me more about this Auror thing and I can tell ya all about the date from hell."

"Date from hell?" I suddenly paused in the process of finding Emma's Floo Powder to stare back at her. The burning fear that had been lurking deep inside somewhere dared to hope.

"Trust me, it's a story for the ages," Emma snorted. "Now get out of here, loser, and let me sleep!"

I grinned. "G'night, Emma."

She rolled her eyes and shoved me into the fireplace.

* * *

A/N: The pain is coming, guys. I can sense it. Fred, the poor boy, is doing his fuckin' best, but this is just the beginning of what I'm sure will be a spectacular downward spiral. You may have to start Idiot Scaling him again. GONNA BE FUN, AAAAAYYOOOOO.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS. I don't know if I even can express how much it means when someone reviews. I hit the 1 year anniversary of me living overseas recently (I KNOW, WHAAAT) and reviews for this story have literally gotten me through homesickness, anxiety and a lot of tears over the past 365 days. I do it all for you guys, seriously, so please let me know what you think. :)

I love y'all!  
\- Moon. xoxo


	18. That one time I got punched in the face

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 18: That one time I got punched in the face.

"OH MY GOD, IT'S AN EMERGENCY!"

"What is it on the scale of 'no tea bags', to 'the world is ending'?" I asked without even looking up from my desk.

"WE ARE AT DEFCON ONE!"

"In that case," I threw down the list of known addresses that I had been combing through and leaned back, kicking my feet up on my desk and giving Emma a grin. "Work was boring me anyway."

"I'm serious, I need your help!" Emma said, shutting my front door from where she'd simply burst in with no warning. I've noticed that we tend to do that a lot these days. Sometimes we randomly Floo in, sometimes we're already there waiting and I'm forced to make awkward small talk with Charmaine until she finally arrives. Sometimes we think to knock, but it's getting to the point where we don't even care. I think boundaries are getting blurred … ( _when haven't they_ , I hear you saying).

She'd obviously come straight from work, where it was raining outside. Her hair was spotted with water, a hand reaching up and pulling it back away from her face. "Jesus, I need to sit down," she said weakly.

"Fire away, Princess," I said, getting up from my desk and giving her my chair. I moved to instead lean against the desk next to her. "Got nothin' but time! You said something about an emergency?"

"Dear god, it's a nightmare!" Emma rubbed her forehead. "Ok, so tonight is my parent's 35th wedding anniversary and every year, my siblings and I take turns organising a party for them. I call Peter right, to find out what time I need to be there, only to find that my fuckin' IMBECILE for a brother has forgotten! HOW DO YOU FORGET SOMETHIN' LIKE THIS, IT'S EVERY YEAR–!"

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you seem a little stressed," I said in amusement.

"NO SHIT, YOU FUCKTARD!"

"Well, what d'you want me to do about it?" I shrugged.

"You have a big family!" Emma helpfully pointed out.

"I'm well aware."

"Look, obviously I couldn't let this go balls up, so I've managed to turn the party into more of a social gathering. Only it's year 35, they're expecting something big," Emma sighed. "Turns out that everyone has lives and only a handful of Mum and Dad's friends can make it on such short notice. I need you to invite basically anyone you know to this party to bulk up the people. Maybe if we pack in as many as possible and cover it up with people Mum and Dad actually know, then they'll never have to find out what an IDIOT their son is!"

"So basically, you want to hire the entire Weasley family?" I snorted.

"FRED, SERIOUSLY, I NEED YOU TO DO THIS–"

"Whoa, for starters, calm your shit, Emma," I said, squeezing her shoulder for a moment. She was going rather red in the face from yelling, and I legit feared she might explode any second. "Blimey!"

"Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but–"

"Girl, it's not like my family has lives," I said. "I'll invite them all and you're guaranteed that at least half of them will turn up if I promise free food."

"There isn't free food. What about open bar?"

"That'll sell 'em," I snapped my fingers with a grin.

"You're seriously gonna do this?"

" _Open bar_ , Princess! My family will eat that shit up," I told her. "Anything for a good time, we're a bunch of nutters anyway–"

Emma suddenly stood from the chair and threw her arms around me. Whatever I was going to say next died in my throat almost instantly as she held around my neck, saying, "Thank you, thank you!" over and over again into my shoulder. I froze for about a second, because fuck, _I think we're hugging_. A mildly familiar panicked feeling started flooding my brain, but … no. I forced it back. I wrapped my arms around Emma's waist and when I straightened from the desk, her feet left the floor. She laughed slightly at the motion.

"Whatever, Princess," I said in way of _your welcome_. "I'm just Fred Weasley, saving your arse."

"I knew I liked you for a reason," she said as I put her down. She stepped back and there was an awkward moment where I suddenly didn't quite know where to look. I don't think I've ever actually hugged her before. Physically, we'd done a lot of stuff which included having my arms around her at some point, but there's a vast difference between naked-hugging and what we just did!

"Yeah, yeah," I tried to stay as casual as possible. "I'll send out a mass owl or something – ohhh, fuck–" I suddenly winced.

I'd been moving towards where my freaky owl, Ravi, usually hung out in the kitchen but that was when I accidentally caught sight of those known addresses once more. My very open case was still sitting there, waiting for me to close it.

"Of course, this HAS to be the time I get stuck with a case!" I complained.

"Oh, you're working?" Emma glanced back at the desk.

"Don't ever get into law enforcement, Emma, I can promise you that you'll lose all your faith in humanity," I groaned.

"I think I'll stick to Cursebreaking," Emma smiled. "Hey, it's fine. I know it's seriously a lot to ask, so if you're too busy–"

"Nah, nah," I quickly said, stepping back towards her. Bracing a hand on my desk, I leaned around her to grab a spare sheet of paper to begin scribbling a message on. "I can still send out that owl, don't you worry! Just give me a time and a place, and I'll invite the entire wham-fam. It'll be a doozy, I swear."

"I seriously can't thank you enough for this," Emma said yet again, glancing down at me as I wrote. I waved off her thanks as she relayed details and I managed to call over Ravi from where he had currently been hanging upside down off his perch. I literally think that my owl is part demon, sometimes. Emma laughed as he drunkenly fell out the kitchen window to begin his journey.

"So are ya able to come tonight, then?" she asked hesitantly.

"If I can solve this motherfucker of a case," I said determinedly. I pointed dramatically at my case file and cried, "YOU HEAR THAT? Ima hunt you down like an animal, ANIMAL!"

"Reel it in, tiger," Emma snorted. "I'll let you get to it then–"

"No, wait!" I suddenly grabbed at her arm as she made to leave. For a second I really didn't know why, because I knew that I had shit to do. I knew that there were owls to intercept, magic to trace and family members to question, but I also knew for a fact that I didn't want her to go yet. It had been days since we'd last properly spoken. It was mostly my fault for avoiding her a lot after the whole 'date' thing, but reassurance that it had been the Date from Hell was drawing me back in. I don't know what it said that I freaked out the moment she was potentially hanging out with anyone else … probably nothing healthy. But I'd address my mental issues later. For now, I just wanted to talk to my friend.

"Fred, you've got work to do," Emma said exasperatedly.

"But we haven't been able to properly sit and talk for AGES!" I insisted. "I know I've only got a couple of hours, but …"

" _Freeeed_ ," Emma whined, but I noticed that she let herself get dragged down next to me onto my sofa regardless. I had her. "Ugh, I guess I'm not so keen to get back out into the rain. I can't even remember the last time we caught up, to be honest. Have I even told you the date from hell story, yet?"

"Um, I uh, don't think so?" I said.

 _No, you 100% fucking haven't_.

"Oh god, prepare yourself!" Emma said. "This story is nuts! So this bloke asks me out – he's a Muggle – and he says he'll pick me up, right? But it's getting on like half an hour and I'm legit thinking he's not coming at all when I get a call from him saying, 'where are you, I've been waiting ages'."

"He's a tosspot already."

"Yeah, he forgot about picking me up and went straight to the restaurant," Emma rolled her eyes. "Shoulda been my first clue! Doesn't even say sorry, just asks me how long it's gonna take me to get there. I eventually arrive and we have dinner, but Jesus Christ, he was boring _as fuck_. He talked about nothing except planes, because apparently he's a pilot – I would know, he said it about fourteen times – and not once did he ask about me and my totally invigorating life!"

"What would you have even said is your job?" I asked.

"Normally, I just say I work for a museum as a researcher or scientist," Emma said. "Sometimes archaeologist, depends how _Indiana Jones_ I'm feeling."

" _Indiana_ –?"

"We're watchin' that movie next," Emma grinned, pointing at me. "Unfortunately, that's not exactly the end of it."

"What else did the idiot do?" I sighed. "If I have to go beat him up–"

"It was nothin' THAT bad," Emma said. "Nah, it's just not only was he boring, he got suuuuper creepy. Like, at first he told me I looked nice, but then he asked me if I'd had a haircut recently, what kind of bodywash I use, said that my boobs are stunning – which they are, but I'd rather they not be commented on over garlic bread, thank you."

"I'll remember that. Please tell me you decked the guy?"

"Well, he went to the bathroom and while he was in there, he sent me a text asking for a blowjob," Emma shook her head. "I told the waitress I was leaving and that he would pay. She had absolutely no problem with it."

"Dear god."

"I know!" Emma was laughing, but she moaned a little, hiding her face in the sofa cushions for a moment. "What is wrong with me, Fred? Do I seriously only attract arseholes or something?"

"Princess," I rolled my eyes. "You could have anyone you wanted."

"I appreciate that, truly I do, but that doesn't stop the fact that I apparently have an utterly appalling taste in men!" Emma whined, turning her head so that she could look at me. "I mean, there was Mark, there's this bloke, there was–"

"Me," I finished for her.

"I wasn't gonna–"

"Yeah, you were," I smirked. "It's fine, I can attest that I am, in fact, an arsehole. Look, I can promise you that you don't just naturally attract the worse of the bunch. You're … I dunno, you were a Hufflepuff in school, right?" I asked and she nodded. "There you go! The first thing you see in someone are the nice qualities. You don't judge until suddenly, you're getting 'come blow me' messages from restaurant bathrooms."

Emma spluttered with laughter and as I sniggered with her, I started wondering. At what point had she judged me as a bad choice? Was it when I was throwing her out of my bed on Valentine's Day? Or sometime earlier, only the sex had made it worth it? I WAS an arsehole, no fucking kidding, but I was trying. Every day I was trying and I was still getting nowhere.

I hadn't addressed those thoughts in my head. The ones that had swirled and spiralled when I first realised that Emma was going on a date with someone else and I'd quite spectacularly lost it. I'm Fred Fucking Weasley, when do I EVER maturely address my issues? HA. No, but really. I think I knew somewhere what my brain was trying to tell me, but I was terrified and as a result, my mind shut down every time they swam somewhere underneath the surface of everything else rattling around in there. Every time I saw her though, I thought about it, it was there and I couldn't stop it, couldn't get rid of it …

Oh, look, I'm panicking again!

"Fred …" Emma jerked her head upright. "You ok?"

"What? PEACHY!" I burst out at once. Force through it, mate! "In fact, I'm feeling invigorated, to be a better human being than some douchebags out there! I think I'll start with hunting down the dregs of human society. The owl's sent, I'll see you at the party tonight, yeah?"

"Yeah," Emma eyed me a moment, but thankfully let it go. "Again, thank you so much."

"Oh, Princess, I'm touched. Get out of here before I start fuckin' crying."

 _No, really_.

* * *

This case couldn't go wrong. The lady in question was 62 years old, and was facing court due to unpaid fines. I tracked her down to a friend's house way out of the city, in a small village somewhere in Bedfordshire, so despite the fact that the time for the party had been an hour ago, I could still make it! I could still get there!

Fat chance.

"My name is Agent Fred Weasley, I'm going to need you to come with me–" I began, but the lady slammed the door in my face almost as soon as she'd opened it. Inside, I could hear the obvious scuffles of someone trying to run. _For god's sake_. There was a six foot wall out back, there was literally no where for her to go!

So I thought.

Imagine my surprise when I ran around back and found the 62-year-old scaling the solid brick wall like she was some kind of fucking lizard.

"The hell–? HOLD UP!"

"Long story short," I managed to say thankfully only about half an hour later. "I end up chasing this woman over a six foot wall and through a field before I eventually manage to catch up with her! She was surprisingly nimble for someone in her 60s."

"Oh my god," Emma snorted into her hand.

"So be thankful I even managed to turn up in the first place!"

"I am, even though you got owned by someone more than double your age," Emma said. She gestured around the crowded restaurant that hosted her parent's wedding anniversary party. "I mean, you Weasley's fucking delivered!"

I tried not to grin so much about the fact that my insane family actually came through for me. It felt like every goddamned family member that I had was here! I could tell from the headcount that it wasn't, but when you pack that many Weasley's into one place, it certainly feels like they're taking up the whole room … it's amazing what the words 'open bar' can do to a person. Al and Scorpius were both munching over a shared plate of nachos, Uncle Ron trying to subtly steal some over their shoulders (it wasn't working). Rose and Bea were knocking back wine. My sister was apparently just here to see the show and to flirt with one of Emma's older brothers (ok, I was going to have to have words with her) and James caught my eye when I arrived, waving from where he'd been talking to some lady with dark, but the same textured hair as Emma. Jesus, I think that's her mother …

Everyone apparently was free to order food as they wished while the bar remained open. You wouldn't have been able to tell that the party was literally thrown together in the last couple of hours! My family bulked out the emptiness that might've occurred if only actual family friends of the Terry's had turned up, seeing as there were barely even ten people that I didn't actually recognise. Vintage music played from overhead, and a round-bellied and cheerful-looking bloke was claiming loudly, "Rebecca! We danced to this at our wedding!"

After the last couple of hours I'd had, that bar was certainly calling to me.

Emma had noticed who James was talking to and he was beckoning us over. Emma grabbed my arm and started dragging me across the restaurant. Christ, maybe I hadn't quite thought this through! That was her mother. MOTHER. I'm literally about ten seconds away from meeting her parents, and suddenly I wanted to go and hide. There were several large decorative pot plants scattered throughout this place, I could potentially get in amongst them –

"I see you finally made it!" James said cheerfully once we approached.

"Yeah, well, it takes a while to chase elderly women through fields," I said warily. I was trying not to look at Emma's mum too much, but she was peering curiously at me until Emma felt the need to tug gently on my sleeve and add,

"Hey, Mum. This is Fred Weasley."

"Oh, it's lovely to meet ya!" she said at once, reaching out and shaking my hand vigorously, "Nice to put a face to the name – call me Rebecca. I won't ask about chasing elderly women."

"I, uh – it's my job," I said hastily. James, the bastard, was sniggering behind his hand at this entire exchange. It was so weird that I had been able to tell straight away that she'd been Emma's mother without even being introduced. She was just about as short as her daughter, a bit curvier and her hair a lot darker than Emma's, but with the exact same frizzy texture. She even sounded exactly the same as Emma, with that strong London accent. She had to be about the same age as my parents, especially if she and her husband were celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary, which reminded me to add,

"Oh, um – congratulations on your wedding anniversary?"

"Thank you!" Rebecca told me. "I'm so glad that you could join us this evenin'. Emma has certainly told me much about you."

"Oh, shit," I blurted out loud.

James just coughed over a laugh, claiming, "Ima go talk to Rosie and Bea …" Rebecca seemed amused while Emma covered her face with her hands. "I mean, uh …" I added, hastily.

"Don't worry, we totally haven't spent hours gossiping about you," Rebecca added. "Well, unless you count the time when–"

"Mum!" Emma cut in.

"Right," Rebecca tacked on the end there. "Never mind! Point is, it's lovely to meet you. Oh, Oscar!" She was apparently distracted by a friend of hers, who had just been passing by. "I've been meaning to talk to you about the new house set-up–! Oh, why thank you, you don't need to congratulate me twice–"

Rebecca Terry hurried after her friend and suddenly, I was left staring mouth-opened at Emma.

She eventually looked up from her hands and caught my expression. "Yeah," she laughed nervously. "My mother, ladies and gentlemen."

"For some reason, it completely slipped my mind that this was a family event I bailed you out on," I mentioned. "I was about as unprepared for that as you could get."

"Fair enough … she's a bit enthusiastic," Emma said, face apologetic. "but on the plus side, as you may have noticed, she gets distracted easily. She's barely even caught on to the fact that about three quarters of this party is all Weasley's. Seriously, you actually saved my arse tonight. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Eh, you know," I just shrugged. "Gotten chewed out by the parents, curled into a ball and moaned pitifully while you cried sweet remorse over missing me?"

"You wish," Emma sniggered.

"And you seriously need to stop thanking me every five seconds, by the way, I've already said that it's fine."

"Sorry. You wanna go get a drink?" she suggested.

"You know what, actually," I held up a hand, wincing. "My head's still spinning. I'm probably good for now."

"Is the head spinning from meeting my mum, or from getting your arse kicked by a pensioner?"

"Probably a mixture of both."

"Oh, Fred. I got no idea how you expect to be able to handle bein' an Auror," Emma was shaking her head at me with a smile.

"Excuse me, I am nothing if not a professional!"

"You can barely handle it when you accidentally break a plate," Emma teased. "Hell, god forbid I toss my jacket on your floor! You'd see your first dead body and say, 'that blood isn't perpendicular to the coffee table, I'm out'."

"Honestly. I don't keep you around for this sort of thing, Emma."

"Nah, you keep me round 'cause I'm adorable," she grinned.

I shook my head. "So has my family been behaving themselves?"

Thankfully, Emma took the change in topic, moving away from teasing the shit out of me. "Oh, yeah," she shrugged. "I mean, apart from your cousin who I think has had one too many wines–" She pointed out Dominique, a glass in her hand and leaning against the wall, apparently trying to chat up the coat stand next to her. "–she's, uh, been trying to get off with the coat rack for the last fifteen minutes."

"Ah, Dom," I mused.

"Don't get me wrong, I ship it."

I snorted. "Yeah, when the Weasley family gets in there, we like to make a scene, apparently. Which reminds me, I think my sister is trying to flirt with who I think is your brother–" I pointed out behind Emma, who glanced over her shoulder to see Roxanne still talking with a too-sweet smile to the young bloke with the same brown hair as apparently all of the Terry siblings.

Emma laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't worry," she said. "She's talking to Peter and he's very taken."

"Yeah, that doesn't usually bother my sister–"

"He's also very gay."

"Ah," I said in relief. "Thank god. For a second there, I thought I'd have to cause a scene. So he's your … second oldest sibling?"

"You got it," Emma said. "The oldest is Ben, he's over there–" She pointed out her other brother who looked to be in his early thirties, talking to my aunt Hermione of all people and holding hands with the woman next to him. "The blond is Lara, my sister-in-law. I think I've mentioned their son, Lockie, who is safely being babysat at home right now. Peter's next, and his boyfriend's around here somewhere – oh, there!" The other bloke was ordering another drink at the bar. "His name's Martin. He's a sweetheart, but I don't think I'll ever forgive them for forgetting to organise this. Then, it's me in the middle," Emma shrugged. "Katie and Henry are still at Hogwarts and don't have to face it, the lucky bastards."

"You know, you make fun of me and my family, but I'm starting to think that the Terry's are just as bad as the Weasley's!" I pointed out.

"You and me both," Emma said.

I wanted to keep talking to her. After running through fields and getting roundhouse kicked in the chest by the elderly, I was keen to stay in the company of someone who didn't make me feel that way! (Well, sometimes). However, I remembered that it was her parent's anniversary and we got separated for a length of time. As Emma's attention was demanded elsewhere ("SPEECH! SPEECH!") I mingled around with my sad, sad family members who apparently had nothing better to do on a Saturday night than come to a random party with an open bar. At least I'd managed to get twenty or so minutes just getting to laugh with Emma. It's funny, I'd almost thought that she would act awkward tonight, what with her family on show and so close by (her father certainly looked like he'd had one too many and at one point was engaged in a thumb-wrestling competition with Uncle Ron) but Emma was as fucking cool as a cucumber. She seemed completely non-phased, which thankfully put me at ease, because the sudden overflow of Emma Terry everywhere was making it easy for my brain to start whispering at me:

 _She talks to her mum about you._

 _You're getting too close._

 _Why do you think you did all this for her?_

Maybe I needed that drink after all.

STAY CALM, MATE.

We at least got to run into each other every so often throughout the evening before somebody else inevitably came in wanting her attention. "We don't normally do this kind of thing," she admitted at one point as we found each other at the bar. "Dressin' up and stuff, this is about as flashy as it gets for the Terry fam. Sorry it's not somethin' cooler."

"Your dad is literally wrestling with my uncle," I snorted in return. "Trust me, Sweetheart, this is about as cool as it was gonna get."

But she was called away again almost instantly by Peter, who was hissing that he forgot the speech too and _come on, you have to help meee, Ems!_ I got to amuse myself by watching her hastily bang out a speech for her parents and their 35 years of marriage on the spot. She actually did pretty damn well, demanding everyone's attention and a wine glass held high in the air as her brain obviously whirled and thought for something to say. Eventually, she ended it with, "Mum, Dad, I can only hope to be as in love someday as you two are – to Alex and Rebecca, everyone!"

Everyone toasted them back, Emma shooting Peter a look that quite clearly said, " _You owe me for this, you little motherfucker,_ " I snorted at the expression on her face and nearly inhaled the drink I'd inevitably accepted up my nose when Rose turned up, throwing an arm around me.

"Sooo, nice party you've organised, huh?" she said, eyes sparkling.

"Shut up, Rosie," I gasped.

"No, really!" she said, nodding at me. "You really pulled through for this one, Fred."

"I just did her a favour," I tossed out as casually as possible, ducking out from under her arm and her knowing look. Damn, Rose. "Really, I just got lucky that so many of you have no lives and no plans on a Saturday night."

"Oh, Scorpius and I had plans," Rose smirked.

"Please, I think I wanna be spared the details."

"The honeymoon was beautiful, by the way," she added.

"Right, I'm taking the subtle hint," I rolled my eyes. "Apparently you haven't talked enough about it yet. How was it?"

"Amazing!" Rose immediately began gushing. I guess I kind of deserved it, since I'd strategically avoided her at any chance I had basically ever since she'd gotten back just before Christmas. "You know we went to the Gold Coast, and it was _gorgeous_. Like, I'm surprised I still have skin left, the sun was so hot. Scorpius got stuck at one of the Muggle theme parks – the safety harness wouldn't lift – so I had to confiscate his wand, except I was laughing too hard. There was a dinner cabaret we went to one of the nights, the GC Quidditch Stadium, History of Australia Magic Museum, OHHH, and we went snorkelling as well–!"

"Ok, I think I get it," I cut in, unable to take anymore of the rambling. "You had a good time!"

"Sorry," she smiled.

"No you're not. So is it all you cracked up to be, or is being married actually slowly killing you from the inside?"

"It's … kind of both," Rose laughed. "It's funny, there was this one time when we were waiting in line to hire snorkels and we got into an argument over what size flippers we needed. We didn't know how to translate our shoe size into Australian sizes and we started fighting over which ones we needed. I heard the lady behind us say something to whoever she was with about us. I didn't know what she said, but I figure it was probably something along the lines of 'they'll be divorced within a month'."

"Did you say anything back?" I asked.

Rose just grinned. "Nah. I snogged him. Told the snorkel bloke we were on our honeymoon, and he gave us a discount."

"You and Scorpius are fucking weird."

"Don't I know it," she said. "So why are you asking me about it? I thought that you figured marriage was an archaic institution?"

"Oh, it is!" I reassured her. "but you can't bloody tell people."

"You're the best, Fred," Rose mentioned. "and don't think that no one has figured out why you went through all the effort to organise this."

"I am studiously avoiding thinking about it too much."

Rose blinked, probably because I don't think she'd expected me to say that. I hadn't expected me to say that! I half thought that I would start blurting out a load of denials, that Emma was still just my friend, that I liked her sure, but everyone had to stop telling me how they thought I felt. 'Yeah, you totally love herrrr' sounds innocent enough, but it implied that my own thoughts meant nothing, right? That everyone else knew better than me.

But look, maybe everyone else DID know better than me at this point. Maybe that was why I was so adverse to hearing it. Maybe it was why I was getting so bad at ignoring it.

OH, LOOK, IT'S THE HEARTBURN AGAIN.

"Fred, you're a precious little pancake sometimes," Rose said, moving to wrap an arm around my waist and hugging me to her side. "Even though you act tough."

"That's just great, I always wanted to be a pancake."

"Just promise me that you're sure about how you feel?" she asked.

"I can promise you that I know nothing, Rosie."

"… fair enough," she said.

"Look," I sighed. "Since I've got you here, I wanna ask ya … how're Al and Bea doing?"

"Why don't you ask them yourself?" she asked.

"Aw, come on," I shrugged. "I'm not that close to them. They're definitely more your mates than mine, so figured it was probably more appropriate or whatever."

"Fred, I will die the day you do something appropriate," Rose snorted.

"Rosieeee!" I huffed. "I wanna know! They're family at the end of the day, right?"

Rose sort of smiled at that. She glanced over her shoulder and I followed her gaze to where Al and Bea were currently talking with Scorpius and what looked like a random family friend of Emma's parents. The husband and wife stood upright and strong at each other's sides, Al's arm curled around her hips. I had of course seen them occasionally since the huge blow out at Rose's wedding, and I knew that they were doing better at least. They were living together again, they were joined at the hip like usual … but I knew how easy it was to put on a front.

"They're doing ok," Rose told me. "It's been hard. I know that they've struggled, but they're handling it together now, rather than apart, which is something. They had to take mandatory counselling as a part of the foster parent and adoption processes, so quite honestly, I think they'll be ok."

"Counselling, seriously?" I cringed at the thought.

"Hey, it is a huge loss," Rose smacked me on the chest at my expression. "I'd like to see you deal with it."

"I'm not planning on having children," I said.

"I'm well aware," Rose held up her hands. "but even though you're not, imagine being told that you couldn't have any at all, even if you changed your mind someday."

"I never really thought about it," I mumbled.

"That's why I'm proud of them," Rose said lightly. "I know that I want children at some point, so I can't even begin to imagine what it's been like. It's even worse because this is something that they both wanted desperately. They could have resigned themselves, done nothing, but they decided to do something about it. That's pretty damn brave."

"Al was a Gryffindor, I guess."

"Of course he was," Rose said. "Paired with Bea's logic, there's nothing they won't get through."

I guess Rose was right, in that it makes you consider things, really. I knew that I didn't want children, and I knew that I would probably never change my mind. It wasn't a case of finding the right person to have them with, they just weren't my thing at all. I was one of those rare minorities who get chewed out every Christmas by well-meaning family members who can't quite grasp the concept ("But don't you want to pass on your legacy? Goodness gracious, child!" Grandma Molly always exclaimed). Yeah, I think I've created quite enough legacy for myself, thanks, I wouldn't be so sadistic as to pass that onto a child! It just wasn't something that I wanted. But Al and Bea made you think about the things you figured you'd get around to someday, because you never really knew when it was all going to be taken away from you. The things you waved off as 'I'll do it later' but what if later never came … or, y'know, some insightful bullshit like that.

What did I plan on getting round to someday?

I accidentally caught Emma's eye from across the restaurant and she pulled a face at me. I poked my tongue back before turning once more to Rose.

"I reckon they're doin' pretty well, then," I told her.

"Naturally," Rose smiled. "Oh and Fred, next time to wanna find out how they are, just go ask them yourself. You don't need to come through me, they'd be more than happy to talk to you."

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes.

"In the meantime," Rose straightened brightly. "Let's enjoy the rest of this open bar! Emma's family seems hilarious – have you met her parents, yet?"

"Her mum, I s'pose."

"Ooh, don't hold out on the details, Fred," Rose elbowed my side.

"So I met her! Big deal."

"What about her brothers?"

"Not properly," I shrugged. "She sort of just pointed them out–"

As it would have it, in that moment fate intervened. We'd started making our way towards the bar once more, when we accidentally ran into who I was pretty sure was Ben Terry, Emma's oldest brother. Glasses clinked and there was an awkward scrambling so that nothing was dropped.

"Oh, shit, sorry!" Ben exclaimed. "I didn't spill anything on you guys, did I?"

"No, not at all," Rose said, checking her shirt. "Have we met? I'm Rose, I'm mates with Emma."

"Oh, hey!" Ben shook her hand. "Thanks for coming tonight, honestly, I thought it was gonna be a disaster – I'm her brother, Ben – and you–?" He left his question open as he reached out to shake my hand.

"Oh, I'm Fred."

For some reason, Ben's face fell.

"Wait," he frowned. "Fred Weasley?"

"Um … I'm not sure I wanna say yes anymore?" I ventured. "I'm also friends with Emma–"

"Oh," Ben sighed, hanging his head towards his chest in resignation. "Oh, dear. I was hoping that I wouldn't run into you tonight."

"What, why?"

"Look, mate, I swear to you that I am really, really sorry about this–" Ben began. He at least did sound genuinely sincere, though I didn't have the slightest clue what for. I was just about to ask what the hell he was talking about, when Emma's brother pulled back a fist and totally decked me in the face.

"FUCK, what the hell?!" I yelled, staggering backwards.

" _Ow,_ I'm sorry!" Ben cried, holding onto his fist. "Really, I mean that!"

Several people jumped and recoiled from the scene in shock. It felt like literally everyone was staring, watching the two of us moan and groan over our injuries, Rose staring between the two of us like this was the latest _Star Wars_ movie. My cheek was throbbing painfully and I gingerly tried to feel any damage as I yelled,

"Look, no offence, but you punched me in the face! You can't just immediately say 'I'm sorry' after that!"

"I didn't WANT to punch you," Ben complained.

"Look, dickhead, I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you–" I started angrily, but then Emma burst in on the scene.

"BEN, WHAT THE HELL?!" she cried.

"I had to, I promised!" Ben tried to reason.

"Tonight is about Mum and Dad, you can't jus' go round punching up my friends, I don't care WHAT you promised–!"

"Yeah, if you wanted a fight, all you had to do was fucking ask!" I yelled back.

"Fred, don't make this worse!" Emma snapped at me. Then, she turned back to her brother and added, "And YOU! Go stand in the corner and think about what you've done! Where the hell is Lara, she will make you sorry that you were ever born!"

"Fred, mate, I really didn't want to punch you," Ben was quick to tell me, lurching forward and ignoring his sister hanging off his arm and trying to pull him back. Emma just got dragged along with him as he extended his other hand. "I swear! But I once promised Emma that if I ever met you, I would punch your face in, no questions asked, and I keep my promises. I really am sorry, it's over now. Nice to meet you?"

"And I thought my family was messed up," I said to Emma, ignoring her brother's outstretched hand.

Ben hung his head in shame like a dog being told off for peeing inside. He got subsequently chewed out by his little sister, his wife, AND his parents for causing such a scene, which might've been amusing if I wasn't so worried that the douche had oh, I dunno, BROKEN MY FACE. "Let go, I'll take a look at you," Rose slapped my hands away from my face, pulling out her wand so that she could go all Healer Weasley on me.

"Oh my god, my brother is an IDIOT!" Emma practically screeched, hurrying over to us. "Shit, did he seriously hurt you?"

"Nah, some bruising will form and his face will throb for a bit, but he's totally fine," Rose told her, tapping her wand to my cheek with a cooling charm.

"Holy Jesus, I am going to kill him," Emma whined into her hands.

"No objections from me," I pointed out, prodding my face gingerly. It was nice having a Healer in the family. Considering us all, you would NOT be surprised how often Rose ends up getting house calls. Hell, she was the one who delivered James and Libby's baby after all!

"I'm gonna – oh, hang on–" Emma made a frustrated noise when she noticed her mother across the room, now arguing with both her sons, Ben and Peter both looking severely chastised even as they tried to plead their case. Alex Terry was apparently so busy drunk talking to his friend about baby giraffes that I think he'd even failed to notice what had happened. I turned to Rose and asked,

"Why am I here, Rosie?"

"Beats me," she shrugged.

I told Rose that I was going to go home, but naturally she told me I wasn't allowed to bail and literally hung off my arm at one point to keep me there. Emma had been forced to run off again to defuse the family argument, and I just got punched in the face, so seriously, what was the point in me staying? I managed to shake Rose off as she went to the bathroom, and I ended up sulking around at the back of the restaurant, leaning against the wall next to one of those lovely aforementioned pot plants that mostly hid me from view. I was just starting to wonder whether it would seriously make a nice home (it was certainly big enough for me to live in for all of time!) because like hell was I ever going to be able to face anyone ever again. But before I could consider climbing in and therefore resigning my fate as a pot-plant hobo, somebody shuffled over to where I was hiding.

"Um … Fred? I was hoping I could talk to you?"

Damn it. I was too curious not to stick my head out to the side and notice Emma's brother. Ben Terry looked sheepish, hands shoved in his pockets and scuffing his feet.

"I am not Fred. I am one with this pot plant."

"Uh …"

"Toodleloo!" I added, moving to legit climb in.

"Whoa, hey!" Ben hastily added and I paused. "Look, I think we kind of got off on the wrong foot here, and I just wanted to make sure that we were cool, y'know?"

"I'm sorry," I grinned. "You want to make sure we're _cool_?"

"Yeah," Ben looked somewhat reassured by my smile.

"DUDE, YOU PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE," I exclaimed.

"Um, yeah, about that," Ben said, expression falling slightly. "Like I said earlier, it was a promise I made to my sister. I'm sure you're not going to hurt her again, in fact, I'm sure that you're a positively swell guy! But I hadn't seen her cry like that in ages. You know, when you dumped her last year. And she told me that if I ever met you, I had to promise to punch your face in, so you can see how I was stuck in a teeny bit of a predicament and–"

"Ok," I cut in loudly. "I'm gonna stop you right there. For starters, we weren't together, I didn't dump her! And second, you are a fucking weirdo and please never talk to me again. Good? Good."

"Aw, Fred, look," Ben pleaded. "I didn't want to punch you! I mean, I know you guys are like, good and stuff now and that I made that promise a while ago, but I had to uphold it, you know? 'cause just because it's all fine now doesn't mean you didn't hurt her in the past."

"Yeah, if you knew your sister AT ALL, then you would know that she doesn't fucking need someone else to do her punching," I snapped.

"Whoa," Ben raised an eyebrow. "I apologise mate, but it's clear you don't know about Mark. I know, I'm sorry! I don't mean to be rude."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I – hey, I don't wanna get into another _altercation_ ," Ben said hastily. "but Mark messed up my baby sister more than you clearly think. Yeah, she's better at being confident now and can certainly hold her own, but deep down she's still a sweet, sweet honeycake who keeps falling for arseholes. Case in fact–" He gestured to pretty much all of me.

I wasn't bothered about him calling me out, because we've already established that. But Ben's words reminded me of Emma's comments earlier in the day: _What is wrong with me, Fred? Do I seriously only attract arseholes or something?_ I suddenly felt compelled to know everything about Mark. I needed to know what the worst was. Because I didn't want to be just another statistic of Emma attracting asshats and douchebags. Helping her throw impromptu parties was a start, but if I wanted to be good enough for her, I had to at least be better than the worst, and so far I was apparently doing a piss-poor job of it.

"What happened with Mark?" I suddenly demanded.

"Oh, hey, um–"

"You punched me in the face!" I reminded him.

"Fine, fine," Ben quickly held up his hands in defence. "Look, how much do you already know?"

"She's only mentioned him once," I said. "Didn't say much."

"Well, I guess she met him a few years ago now," Ben explained. "We all thought he was a swell guy! Honestly, it doesn't sound bad when you try to explain it, except that he was cheating on her for most of the relationship. The rest of it was real subtle, like when she'd try to confront him about something and he would twist her words and make it her fault. He put her down, he made her completely dependent on him. He isolated her from us and her friends. He didn't want a girlfriend, he wanted a pretty face to control. Eventually, Peter and I got her to talk to us and we helped her leave. The guy was a total manipulative dick and wasn't even upset when she left. I know she acts all confident and sassy, because that's totally who she is … but even though it's been two years since she broke up with him, you can see why I still feel the need to punch anyone who hurts her," Ben shifted uncomfortably. "Right?"

I gaped at him a moment. I couldn't ever imagine going through something of the sort. Yeah, I had my dick moments, but I was nothing if not upfront! Christ, why did I ask about this, I don't want to know this! It was starting to get painful inside my chest, and not a good painful. The kind of painful when you eat something bad and then it feels like you're shitting bricks. I wanted to actually make like Ben and punch _that_ motherfucker's face in. A part of me was starting to wonder if I'd actually asked Ben to tell me because I was looking for any excuse not to love her anymore. Looking for literally anything that could put me off, because lord knows nothing does it quite like heavy baggage. But if anything, it only made me totally appreciate every inch of her … because if someone could go through all that and come out anything like the Emma I knew, then she was worth hanging out with.

" _Fuck_ ," I said.

"Yeah," Ben said. "That was sort of our reactions as well. So you see, right? If Emma's cryin' over a boy, I gotta make sure that he gets what he deserves! But I do apologise, I hate causing harm. Apart from Mark, you're the only person I've ever physically assaulted in my life," he tacked on the end there with a small grin.

"This is unreal."

"So, we're mates then?"

"Oh, screw it," I just reached out and Ben happily and very enthusiastically shook my hand. "Yes, fine, we're mates."

"I'm so glad that I can get to know you, Fred!" Ben said cheerfully.

"Yeah, whatever."

* * *

After that, I really did bail out of the evening, despite what Rose might've told me ("C'mon, if you run away every time someone gets mad at you! – Fred? FRED!") because after everything, my mind simply couldn't take anymore. I couldn't let my brain think or feel, I just needed to go concentrate on work or something! Unfortunately, by the time I got to the next day, I forgot that I had hastily scrambled to finish my current case so that I could get to the party on time (what was I thinking?) so I was quite without anything to do. You know, apart from paperwork, and I wasn't quite that desperate yet. So I ended up owling Emma, asking to meet up for lunch.

The minute I walked into her office, she was up on her feet.

"I AM SO SORRY!" she positively yelled, running towards me and clamping her hands on my shoulders. "I MEAN IT, I AM SO SORRY MY BROTHER IS SUCH AN IDIOT AND I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU STILL DID ALL THAT FOR ME AND OH MY GOD, I'M SORRY–!"

"Blimey, shut up Emma!" I said. "I only got a punch to the face, it didn't even hurt that much. I've had far worse happen to me at some point."

"But that's not the point!" Emma insisted. She rested her head on my chest in shame for a second, before looking back up with a frustrated sound, "Jesus, Fred, it's the principle of the thing! Ben can't just go around beating up people he doesn't like."

"If it makes you feel better, he seemed very apologetic afterwards," I shrugged. "Honestly, I think we came out of that conversation as friends, now that I think back."

"So you don't hate me?"

"Nah," I said. "I mean, I refuse to go to any party you invite me to ever again! But nah, don't hate you."

"I'm so sorry," she said again.

"Shut it. You don't need to be. Are we getting food or what?"

She eventually smiled and leapt back to grab her coat and bag. Soon, we were casually walking down Diagon Alley and I had utterly no idea what to say to her. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun that blew around her face and you'd never guess that the feisty piece of work before me had baggage even heavier than my commitment issues. WHAT DO I EVEN SAY?!

"Your brother told me about Mark," I blurted out.

Dude. Anything but that.

Emma sighed. "Ah."

"Yeah, like … I don't care – I mean–" I struggled with words for a moment. "I get what he did, he's a fucking bastard. And you're awesome because you don't let it define you and you shouldn't give a fuck about him because I really don't. In fact, if I ever met him, I'll punch him. Which I know is a bad promise to make, but I swear–"

"Please," Emma said, holding up a hand. "No more promising to punch people for me! If I ever do run into him again, I will politely plaster on a smile and simply walk in the other direction."

"But what if–"

"NO PUNCHING."

"Naw," I grumbled.

"Seriously, I don't know what exactly my brother told you, but I don't care anymore, and neither should you," Emma said. We weren't really aiming for anywhere anymore, but we kept on walking. "I've already had my first accidental run-in with him. Last year. I told you about that, right?"

"Vaguely," I shrugged. "You just randomly turned up at my flat and fucked me six ways to Sunday on my sofa."

"Oh, yeah …" she mused. "Look, I confronted him and I didn't cry, die or anything else in between, so I call it a relative success. Yeah, I'll always hate 'im, but that part of my life's over, innit? I take it that was my brother's rationalisation for going all apeshit at you, huh?"

I kind of vaguely half-nodded.

"Oh, Ben," Emma said. "He's a gentle soul."

"I noticed."

"You'd like his wife, I think. Lara's got some spunk in her."

"Forgive me when I say that I am never coming to a family party of yours again."

"But it was fun!" Emma laughed.

"Why am I here?" I asked dryly.

But no, really, _why was I even here_? I kept asking myself that over and over again, always asking why did I keep doing this shit for her? I was willing to literally drop everything and help her, even though I knew it would involve meeting her family. I faced meeting her mother, getting punched in the face, and being told about Mark the Dickhead! Seriously, I thought about it all, and yet I went ahead and did it anyway. My heart hammered as I looked at her and you know all that insanity that's been building inside my head the last few weeks? All the heartburn, the stress and the jealousy, everything that I was supressing? I finally let it burst.

I know. Because halfway down Diagon Alley is a really good place for that.

But I couldn't hold it in anymore because it was getting ridiculous and starting to hurt. I knew exactly why I kept feeling all the feelings and why I had entered this friendship with her in the first place. I knew why the plan to get over her had gone spectacularly balls up, because I get good news at work and the first person I want to tell is her. A murderer escapes and all I can think is, _she needs to be ok_. She goes on a real date and I want to kick something. I was done covering it up with scowls and cynical debates and general douchebaggery, because the fact of the matter is that I have FUCKING TEA in my cupboards at home for her!

I'm in love with her.

One hundred per cent, completely, want to vomit, want to fucking stab myself _in love with her_.

Shit.

* * *

A/N: So basically, Fred is in love (again? Still? Who the fuck knows), the Terry Family is crazy, Rose is so fuckin' marrieds and Emma has an appalling taste in men. Shit's goin' down (AND YELLIN' TIMBERRRRR!). Sorry. I mean, I hope you liked it. :)

Please Note: I don't know when I can get the next chapter out for you. I knooow, but my parents and younger sister are coming to England for the entire month of June (!). I haven't seen them in over a year and we're travelling around a lot, but I know there'll be some down time in there somewhere, so please bear with me. It could be 1 or 2 weeks, could be more, I don't know atm. But know that I'm always thinking of you guys and of Fremma. :)))

Thank you so much for your reviews. I mean it when I say they give me life. Apparently I've got like some 60-odd people following this NextGen story, which floors me every day, so with so many of you, please let me know what you think!

LOVE Y'ALL.  
\- Moon. xoxo


	19. That one time it was an emergency

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 19: That one time it was an emergency.

I know what you're all thinking.

 _HAHAHAHAHAHA. You! In love with a girl!_

 _Go home, Fred, you're drunk._

Yeah, cheers mate.

Come to me when you have some actual solid advice about what to do, and you better do it pretty damn quick! Emma was still staring at me standing there in the middle of Diagon Alley like some gormless idiot, and if I didn't watch out, the fucking meltdown in my head would start blurting out loud as well! I had no idea what to do. She was asking if I was ok and I was just standing here with the realisation crashing around my ears and _holy fucking shit, I'm in love with her._ It hurt to look at her and also NOT look at her at the same time. Getting punched in the face hurt less than this!

OH MY GOD, SERIOUSLY, WHAT DO I DO?!

" _Fred_?" Emma stressed.

"Yes, wait, what? BABY, DON'T HURT ME!" I ended up yelling.

"It is as cold as the fuckin' artic out here," she said. "Were you plannin' on moving any time soon, or what?"

"I – yeah," I hastily lurched back into step next to her. "Sorry, I just – remembered somethin'."

"I thought you were gonna pass out for a moment there," Emma mentioned casually. "Mouth open, did you start catching flies?"

"Shut up."

"Yeah, like tha's gonna happen! What'd you remember?"

Fuck.

"WHO WANTS ICE CREAM?!" I yelled, frantically. I pointed out the ice cream shop, which was a kind of ridiculous thing to suggest since the February wind was indeed a fucking killer out here, but I digress. Emma raised an eyebrow, but thankfully I think she's become sort of immune to my random bouts of insanity by this point. She followed me towards the shop anyway.

"You seriously feelin' all right?" she asked.

"What makes you think I'm not?"

"You just suggested ice cream when it's currently lookin' like it's bout to snow," She gestured around us. "Oh that, and ya kind of look like you're about to throw up."

Honey, you have NO idea.

"I dunno," I muttered. I was about ready to pull out any excuse at this point, so I latched onto a semi-true statement and carried on, "I picked up an Auror application the other day, and I've been going through it."

"Seriously?" she asked with a grin. "I didn't know you were actually gonna apply!"

"I didn't either," I admitted. "I just went in to harass Yael and Kayla, and I ended up having a lovely chat with the receptionist, who shoved one into my hands. I didn't really think about it until I started reading it through and I'd filled out the entire first page before I realised what I was doing."

"Christ on a bike, Fred Weasley as an Auror," Emma bumped my shoulder. Something she'd done a million times before, but never had it quite hit me until this point. "Sound the alarms! We shall all perish!"

"Yeah, yeah, who gave you permission to piss on me?"

"You," she smirked. "when you awkwardly agreed to be my friend."

"What a fucking mistake that was."

"You love me."

MAYDAY, FUCKING MAYDAY, ABORT, ABORT, WHAT THE FUCCCCKKKKKK–?!

Oh.

It took me an embarrassingly long moment in my head to realise that she hadn't suddenly caught on to the thoughts in my head. She wasn't accusing me, she was just snorting with laughter and teasing me like normal. Oh my god, she was going to send me into a bloody heart attack any second now! If I had more of a sound mind I might've easily just carried on talking like normal, but as it was, I laughed loudly and uncomfortably before hastily darting under the doorway to the ice cream parlour. Emma ducked in after me, saying,

"Fred, are we _seriously_ gettin' ice cream in February?"

"There's never a bad time for ice cream, Princess," I threw back.

"The man knows his stuff!" the cheery woman behind the front counter called out to us. "What'll it be, love?"

We ordered and ended up eating inside, as snowflakes had indeed started falling out in the street. We sat at one of the tall tables in the window, watching shoppers struggle against the wind and comically trying to keep their scarfs from strangling them. Snow hardly ever sticks in London. I couldn't even remember the last time it actually snowed here, so normally we just get weather like this where it's all the shitty side-effects of snow without the payoff.

"Actually," Emma said, and I glanced at her. "I s'pose James' thing is ice cream, isn't it?"

"Oh, you mean his obsession with ice cream sundaes?"

"Yeah," she said, licking her cone. Jesus Christ. "I think I'll concede, there's always a place for ice cream! I vividly remember many times I've eaten my own body weight in berry sundaes."

"Over me?"

"You wish," she snorted. "But back to this Auror application. What exactly do you have to do for it?"

"Fuckin' everything," I said. "I even had to dig out my old OWL and NEWT grades! I'll bet they're not good enough to get me through, even with Huntley endorsing me."

"You were one of those kids who mucked about and rocked up late to the exams, weren't you?" Emma asked.

"Heeey! I was never late! Well, mostly," I winced remembering one of the last exams I ever took at school. Seventh-year History of Magic. Who the hell CAN pass that class? James and I had been cramming using Rose's notes, because lord knew that she was better than both of us combined, and ended up skidding into the Entrance Hall just as the last few students were being let in and we could simply tag on at the end of the line. Naturally, the notes were confiscated.

"You were the kid who always studied, weren't you?" I threw back at Emma.

"I did my best!" Emma insisted proudly. "I never understood potions, unfortunately, no matter what I did. It was simply beyond me. Luckily, I very rarely come across potions at work and if I ever do, I fob it off onto Sarah."

"I'm fairly certain that's what colleagues are for."

"So how many NEWTs _did_ you get?"

"Uhhh … oh, hang on, I actually remember this 'cause I had to look it up for the application," I screwed up my nose, trying to remember the decrepit parchment that I had buried, crumpled and slightly soiled, in amongst a box of old school things. I'd had to comb through the entire attic with Mum's help, although her calling out every five seconds from the other side as she found some old and obscure object from my childhood had been more of a distraction than anything. "Oh! Remember when you used to fit these cuties?" she kept calling across the attic.

No, Mum. I probably don't.

"The only thing I failed was History of Magic," I said. "Which, admittedly, is probably because I only studied for all but four hours the night before. But I actually did pretty decent! Although I think it's ridiculous to base a job application on your academic results, 'specially since the last time I went to school was bloody years ago."

"It was the same when I applying for the Cursebreaker programme," Emma shrugged. "Wish I hadn't had to have put down my abysmal potions result, but at least I still got in!"

"Now I'm just onto the short answer and essay questions," I rolled my eyes. "Not to mention the medical I need to get signed off, the three written references, form consenting to a background check and 200 plus question personality test."

"Blimey," Emma mentioned. "For my course, I just had to write why I wanted the job."

"Oh, that's a part of it!" I said. "No wonder it takes fucking months to fill out this thing! I started second guessing whether I really wanted it, but I realised that I've been thinking of ways to schmooze up my current boss so that he'll write me a good reference … so I think I'm actually doing it now?"

I don't think the concept had really hit me yet. That I was going to apply to be an honest to god Auror, that I was going to leave behind the 'agent' title and might eventully be starting an entirely new career. I'd been hanging onto being a bail agent, I think because half of me was certain that I wasn't going to be good enough to get accepted anyway, but really it was still just supposed to be a fleeting idea at this point, even as I was filling out the application. I mean, my head can only concentrate on so many things, here! For a moment, I thought that at least talking to Emma had appeared to calm me down somewhat. I could almost pretend that we were honestly nothing more than just mates! That nooo, I wasn't attracted to her in the slightest, I didn't die a little inside every time we accidentally bumped into each other.

But shit. I'm sitting in a fucking ice cream shop in the middle of fucking winter with a woman I am in FUCKING love with AND I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M FUCKING DOING!

"Ah, give me the reference, I'll write one up for you," Emma told me.

"Christ, and what would that say?"

"Responds well in an emergency?" Emma suggested. "Has no life, so always available?"

"Har, har," I muttered. "Bitch, finish your ice cream."

She did. And we talked some more before braving the bitterness outside. I almost thought she was going to burrow inside my own jacket at one point, the snowflakes were quickly turning to sleet that was melting down the back of her neck. With no umbrella, we had to dash underneath shop awnings until we could reach the outside front steps of Gringotts once more.

"Welp," Emma said, a few steps above me so that we were actually eye to eye. "I can't say that it's been a normal week, but I'll catch ya! Seriously … thanks for everything you've done, Fred. You need help with that application, just yell. Especially if there's a question about how you would escape if you were taped to a chair without a wand, I'd LOVE to recreate that shit!"

"Naturally," I scoffed. "Sod off, Princess."

"See you later!"

"Yeah," I muttered.

* * *

The second she was gone, I Apparated. I burst into my empty flat and screamed,

"OH MY GOD, IT'S AN EMERGENCY!"

Startled, Ravi flapped his wings frantically and fell into the kitchen sink.

I love her. I'm honest to god in fucking love with her and yes, quite frankly, I AM freaking out about it! I'd managed to half convince myself lately that I was just slowly losing it over the last several weeks. Ever since she went on that bad date, but it was nothing, it was just stress and I was just finally goin' crazy like everyone seemed to think I was anyway! Besides, didn't I think that I'd fallen kind of in love with her already? That's why I had stopped seeing her, so it didn't make sense! I'd taken that small part of me that had gone slightly nuts and bound and gagged it, before throwing it into the fucking Thames.

I honestly thought that I had tried my best. I thought that I'd done everything I could since then to get over her. But now that I look back, I shouldn't have even wasted my fucking breath. I HAD tried, but it never would have worked. Who could resist Emma? She was incredible! She was beautiful and funny, she had a spark that set me on bloody FIRE, and I give props to myself for trying, I really do! But also someone REALLY should've told me not to waste the energy. I'd ask how the hell this happened, but it's pretty damn obvious it was simply because it was her. Emma Terry had literally done nothing but exist and somehow I have found myself in this predicament!

God, Emma.

I love you. _I love you_.

SEND HELP.

* * *

"By the way," James called over from the other side of the kitchen. "You wanna tell me why Emma's been carving your name into an evil talisman from work and whispering 'you'll be next' whenever I see her?"

"What?" I asked dumbly.

But apparently you still can't get anything past severely sleep-deprived James Potter! His shrewd look hit deep because ya, of course I knew exactly what he meant. I was a fucking mess. I didn't know what to do! Weeks had gone by and yes, you heard me correctly. I haven't seen Emma once since I'd said 'see you later' on the steps of Gringotts because just the idea of doing so sent my head screaming. What if she took one look at me and realised? What if I said something stupid? WHAT IF SHE ALREADY KNEW? I was fucking this up either way, though, because what could I even possibly say to her to explain why I was suddenly and inexplicably ignoring her? 'Hey, so I know I've been a dickhead who's been avoiding you recently, but don't worry, it's just 'cause I'm in love with you, so we're still all good, right?' RIGHT.

I was about to hurl myself off the nearest cliff. And living in London, that was a mighty fine feat.

I knew that Emma was mightily pissed off at me. I just kept thinking 'soon, I'll sort out this shit soon' but another day would go by and the idea of seeing her would be almost more terrifying than the day before! I think Ravi somehow knew something was up, because he kept flying around me in circles whenever I was home, hooting randomly and dropping small rodents on my head. Or maybe the thing had just broken into my liquor cabinet again. My owl is fucking weird, ok?

"Would you stop it?!" I'd ended up snapping at him on multiple occasions. "I'm not owling her!"

" _Hooo-oooot_ …" Ravi would warble back, flapping around my ears before dive-bombing the sofa.

I'm not stupid. I knew I couldn't avoid her forever. Despite everything, at the end of the day, Emma was my friend. A best friend, even. You only meet those kinds of people rarely in a whole lifetime! Falling ridiculously in love wasn't something I'd planned on, but neither was it worth throwing this all away for. I had to fucking fix it at some point, because the owls kept coming in from her burly barn-coloured thing and while at first they'd been ok, they'd naturally slowly gotten madder and madder over the weeks …

 _Boneheeeeead –  
_ _If you want, bring over your application and I can help you fill it out! I've been thinking about how I'd tape you to a chair. It's beautiful. Get your arse over here.  
_ _–Princess_

 _Hey, Fred,  
_ _Today sucked. Come over. I have a lot of wine.  
_ _Princess._

 _Fred,  
_ _Are you ok? Libby tells me you're fine, but you aren't answering my owls. What the hell is happening? You can talk to me, you know you always can. If you wanna hang out, let me know.  
_ _Emma._

 _Yo, Bonehead!  
_ _Look, I don't know what your deal is, but literally stop fucking ignoring me! Libby says there is not a fucking thing wrong with you, so I'll come over there and punch you myself for being a douchebag, YOU KNOW I'LL DO ITTTT! Now get the hell over here and hang out with me.  
_ _Princess_

 _Fuckhead –  
_ _What'd I do? Are you SERIOUSLY pretending that I don't exist? I'm going to dinner with James and Libby tonight. Turn up and maybe I'll know that you're not actually an arsehole.  
_ _Me_

 _Fred –  
_ _I don't know why I'm still trying. Come over. I miss you.  
_ _Emma._

The latest note from a couple of days ago was still littered somewhere on my desk. It was short and simple:

 _Hey, Fred!  
_ _FUCK YOU.  
_ _Love Emma xox_

So, you know. If I planned on ruining this, I did SPLENDIDLY.

And naturally, James had caught on.

"She doesn't seriously have a voodoo doll of me, right?" I asked him. "Actually, never mind. I don't want to know. Just shut up mate and go to bed. I got this."

James snorted, but asked, "Are you sure? You know how to heat up a bottle, right? She'll need one soon and you know what, I think I'll just do it now for you and–"

"DUUUDE," I said. "Just go to sleep already!"

"If you need anything," James pointed at me. "Seriously, _anything_ , just wake us."

"I promise! Bloody hell," I rolled my eyes. "We got this, huh, Clara?"

The five-month-old Tiny Human in my arms hit me in the face with her little fists. Well, at least it didn't hurt as much as last time.

"See, we're tight."

"Fred, I mean it," James folded his arms, watching his daughter. "This is the longest you'll have looked after her. She needs to go down at five–"

"Trust me, I have read and memorised the schedule you forced under my nose," I said. "SERIOUSLY, just go to bed already!"

I always know I'm losing it whenever I agree to babysit. Clara was at least a lot bigger now than the last time I looked after her. She was still tiny, but at least I wasn't as afraid of crushing her anymore. I'd only come round to say hi, only I'd found Libby crying, James lying face down on the floor and Clara giggling next to him. I'd taken one look at them before saying,

"Get your arses to bed, I'll watch her."

Libby had cried even more at that, which was frankly embarrassing, but I'd taken her hug without complaining. She'd crashed within five minutes on top of the covers and with the light still on, but James had been hanging around the last twenty or so trying to ensure that I didn't fuck up his daughter. Which, please. I know I'm particularly apt at such a thing, but I think if that if I was going to fuck up with Clara, I would've done it by now, or I wouldn't have volunteered for this shit in the first place!

"Don't think I'm not through talking to you," James accused. "but thank you for doing this. Oh my god, I can barely see straight …" He actually walked into one of his kitchen chairs on his way out. When I checked on him and Libby ten minutes later, he had completely crashed. I snorted and turned the light out for them, shutting the door.

"Soooo …" I glanced down at Clara, hitching her higher in my arms. "What're we gonna do to entertain ourselves, then?"

The little girl really was cute, even if she appeared to be slowly driving her parents more and more insane as the days went by. Quite honestly, while it felt like I still got to see them, I'd actually barely hung out with James or Libby at all the last few months, and when I did, it was always during those moments when they plaster on smiles and fancy dresses and chill with everyone else like normal human beings. I'd almost managed to forget what it must actually be like looking after this tiny thing 24/7, but their flat certainly held the real evidence. I don't think I'd ever seen anywhere messier in my life, and I've bloody been to Emma's place! Not to mention that it wasn't just clutter, it was _mess –_ stains and marks that I REALLY hoped to god weren't vomit and empty plates littered around the place. Honestly, no wonder they were going mental!

"Really, Clara, if you hope to reach your first birthday, you're gonna need to step it up," I said, lying on the living room floor with her. She liked playing on her tummy and was currently trying to eat a soft toy unicorn while I lay on my stomach in front of her so that we were eye to eye. I leaned on my arms, holding up my head so that I could speak. "Mummy and Daddy are startin' to see through your pretty eyes. Soon they'll see you for the demon that you really are!"

Clara chomped on the unicorn's head.

"You're cute, though."

"Gahaaa," she said in response.

"Mmm," I nodded. "I hear ya, I hear ya … what did that unicorn ever do to you, anyway?"

"Naaaa."

"What? That bitch," I gasped. "What did you do?"

Clara kicked the floor a couple of times with her feet.

"Good! Perhaps it taught Unicorn here some respect," I nodded firmly. "You gotta let it know who's boss. Repeat after me: I am Clara Potter-Fletcher, and I am a boss ass witch!"

"Aaa-aaa-aahhhh."

"Close enough," I shrugged. "You really are a boss, though. Hope you know that. I know you probably don't get a word I'm saying, although you are actually making sounds now, so maybe I should watch the swearing. I dunno. I don't really know a thing about babies, except don't kill them, even when you want to. Do you ever get that feeling?"

Clara chewed the unicorn's hoof.

"It's a pretty decent rule to live by," I told Clara. "I know it gets REALLY tempting at some points, but the fact of the matter is that we simply cannot murder people we don't like. It's like, illegal or somethin'. I'd rather not have to bail you out of jail at some point without telling your parents, especially since it's usually my job to track you down if you abuse that privilege. SO NO LAW BREAKING, or I'll be forced to arrest your arse. You hear me?"

"Nanaaaa."

"This is no joking matter, Clara!"

She pushed the unicorn away in disgust.

"Finally exacted your revenge, huh?" I asked. "I'll take that as your acknowledgement of no Uncle Fred, I promise to never be a statistic of juvenile delinquents. So long as you are not yet another woman in my life who wants to kill me, I'm cool, I'm cool …"

Clara was apparently bored now and started fussing and whining. "Hey!" I said, sitting up hastily. I gathered her into my arms before she could really start screaming and wake her parents up. "You want a change of pace, you only need to ask! No need to scream … blimey, I have another hour with you. What do I do with ya, huh?"

I tried putting her down again, but she whined at the motion, instead grabbing hold of my t-shirt and refusing to be pulled away and threatening to shriek the entire building down. "Fine! Jesus," I muttered, instead sitting back against James and Libby's worn sofa on the floor. I plonked Clara in my lap and she seemed content for the moment to simply snuggle. "You're not a bad snuggle-buddy, you know," I pointed out to her. "I don't normally do the 'cuddle' thing but I'll make an exception for a beautiful girl."

I sighed when I realised that I actually HAD made an exception …

"Ok, so speaking of women in my life who want to kill me," I told Clara. "Do you know anything about one Emma Terry?"

Clara tried to eat my finger.

"She's my friend," I explained. "More or less. Definitely less at the moment. More this time last year. You know how it goes. The long story short is essentially that she wanted to cuddle and I didn't. Don't. Or maybe I just didn't know how and didn't want to make an idiot of myself. And maybe I want to cuddle a little now. Or a lot. You're a good cuddler, by the way," I added, which I'm sure was a big boost to her five-month-old ego. "You make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But the point of the matter is that I fell in love with her and got really mad about it. Now, she wants to kill me."

"Ahhhhhhh."

"I know, I know. So what do I do?"

You know, I almost thought she shrugged for a moment there, like she was saying " _Beats the fuck outta me, Uncle Fred_ ," If this girl does not end up swearing like a sailor when she's older, I shall be severely disappointed.

"Yeah, same here," I said.

I sat with Clara for a while, but she soon got restless again. She wouldn't settle for being put on the floor once more and eventually, the only thing that seemed to amuse her was walking around, me cuddling her back to my chest so that she could see everything and also try and eat everything. And I do literally mean EVERYTHING. She tried to eat my wand, an empty coffee mug, her unicorn again once I picked him up, a used butter knife … you name it, if she got her hands on it, it went into her mouth.

"Shit, shit – Clara!" I exclaimed, hastily grabbing the knife off her. Thank the lord that thing wasn't sharp. "Honestly, I only bent over to move the glasses out of the way so you wouldn't eat them either! Stop trying to get at everything and instead tell me how to work out my ridiculous love life! Oh, who the hell am I kidding?" I tossed the knife back onto the messy table with a bitter _clang_. "I'm Fred Weasley, I'm not meant to have a love life at all. This is insane! I just need to screw this shit and move on! Amiright, Clara?"

She started whining again. "Yeah, yeah, I get the hint," I rolled my eyes. "Uncle Fred, stop going on and just DO something about it! Well, it's not that simple, missy! Hey, hey …" I tried to shush her as her whining apparently started turning into crying. "Come on, don't wake up Mum and Dad! Damn, they'll want to kill me too … Clara, c'mon … I promise to stop talking about Emma?"

It was actually only a minute later when I'd sat down at the kitchen table and hugged Clara to me when I noticed. One side of her baby face had broken out in some kind of rash, all red and blotchy and angry looking. Oh my god.

"What the hell?" I peered at her crying face more closely. "Clara, what …" Actually, the more I looked, the worse she appeared to be. She wasn't crying so much as wheezing now. Shit, were her lips _swelling_?

… I didn't let her eat a poisonous mushroom, right?

"Fuck – JAMES! LIBBY! OH MY GOD, IT'S AN EMERGENCY–!" I practically screeched.

* * *

We burst into that hospital waiting room like we were finishing a motherfucking marathon.

I had never seen two people wake up so quickly. One second James and Libby were completely out of it and the literal next, they were up alert and yelling what the hell was going on. While you'd imagine that this was about the time to scream, "I THINK MY BABY'S DYING!" Libby was actually being surprisingly calm. James was a total hindrance, of course, but Libby held Clara firmly in her arms and asked for immediate assistance. A Healer was there straight away, performing some spell which apparently eased the airway before directing us all down a corridor towards the ground floor Emergency Department. "Right, who is everyone here?" the Healer asked us, examining Clara closely as she whined on Libby's lap.

"I'm her mum," Libby explained. She gestured to James adding, "He's the dad. _That_ one–" she pointed at me. "–is the idiot we let look after her."

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" I cried, dancing around the bed as the Healer shot me an exasperated look. "OH MY GOD, IS SHE DYING?"

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step back for a moment–"

"But this is my fault, OH MY GOD–"

" _Sir_ ," the Healer stressed. "Please don't make me call security."

Resigning myself to being banished, I was forced to trudge outside of the emergency department, down the corridor and into the waiting room there. Seeing as it was a Friday evening, I wasn't surprised that it was full of people. I couldn't even sit down, so I ended up pacing the corridor and length of the room. Holy shit, I am basically the worst. I could have KILLED my best friend's baby! She was swelling, what if she couldn't breathe? She might have choked! I AM A TERRIBLE HUMAN BEING. I didn't realise how much I actually loved Clara until this moment. The Tiny Human had become my compadre, my partner in crime, and I totally just hurt her. Legit panic was seizing my throat. What if she was screwed forever because of this? I don't even know what I did! James and Libby would probably never forgive me, Clara would grow up being taught about that 'crazy Uncle Fred who tried to kill you' and I would find myself living at work because even my flat would reject me!

Clara, I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me.

It was almost a relief when I was called back into the ED. Thankfully, Clara seemed a lot calmer now, napping away in Libby's lap with no more angry rash up her face. "I need to ask a few questions," the Healer told me as I approached. I avoided looking at James and Libby.

"Is she going to be ok?"

"Don't worry. It was a moderate allergic reaction," the Healer nodded. "Clara here obviously came into contact with something that didn't agree with her. While she was in your care, did she consume anything?"

"Well, I mean, what DOESN'T that girl consume, amiright–? I mean, uhhh …" I trailed off at the look on the Healer's face. "Not – nothing I can think of."

"No foods of any kind?"

"Nah, I just gave her a bottle about an hour after they went to sleep," I answered. "She drinks that all the time, right? RIGHT?"

"Did she come into contact with anything that she might not have touched before?"

"I don't know! She touches everything!" I cried. "She tried to eat my hand, her unicorn, an empty plate, a butter knife – I took that one away from her I swear–"

"Did the plate or knife have anything on it?"

"Like, some peanut butter or something," I shrugged. "Wait – OHHHH–"

The Healer nodded and finally, I figured I'd better look at James and Libby. I was prepared for their disdain, the looks that said I would shortly be disowned as their family and friend, but turns out that they were barely paying attention to me. They were both watching Clara sleep, James sitting next to Libby closely on the hospital bed. He had an arm hung around her neck and pulled her in slightly so that he could kiss the side of her head, softly stroking Clara's cheek. Shit. I don't think I'd ever seen someone look at something quite like that before. They were so relieved that Clara was ok, it was fucking pouring out of their eyes!

I hadn't even known that someone could feel that much love for someone.

"The peanut butter could very well have been a trigger," the Healer was explaining, and James and Libby glanced back up at him. "It was only a moderate reaction, nothing life threatening, though I would like to keep Clara in overnight to observe her and ensure that no other reactions occur. Tomorrow, I would also like to test her for potential allergens, to determine what exactly triggers her. If you have any questions at all, feel free to ask," the Healer smiled reassuringly. "Would you consent to one of our training Healers overseeing her transfer to the children's ward?"

"It's fine with me," Libby answered, glancing up at James who nodded.

It was Libby who found me about twenty minutes later outside of Clara's ward, currently smacking my head against the brightly painted wall.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid …" I muttered with each bang.

"Fred, I'd preserve any brain cells you've got left," she smirked, cocking a hip at me.

"Libby!" I spun around, terrified. "Is she settled now? I really am so sorry–"

"James is with her," Libby said gently. She took a step forward out of the way of someone else entering the ward, so we stood together in front of the painted clown on the wall. "Honestly, Fred, it's ok. You scared the bloody SHIT out of me, but it's ok. Clara is fine and honestly, if you hadn't reacted so quickly, it might've been a lot worse. So thank you."

"THANK YOU?" I said. "Oh my god, I let her lick a knife and it nearly killed her!"

"Honestly, lots of people are allergic," Libby sighed. "My dad and brother both have peanut allergies, so I should've been more careful."

"You? Libby–"

"I'm her mother," Libby said with a lot more force in her voice than I anticipated. She looked miles better than before she had gotten uninterrupted sleep for a couple of hours, but her hair was still wild and her eyes still dark. "It is my job to protect her. I shouldn't have even had peanut butter in the flat, but James loves the stuff–"

"Libby, this isn't _your_ fault," I pointed out.

" _I'm her mother_ –"

"And James is her dad!" I said. "And I'm her uncle, kind of. And we're probably all blaming ourselves, so if you can tell me to knock it off, I can certainly tell you!"

Libby at least managed a half smile. "Good god, sometimes I can't quite believe my life. You did do pretty well at babysitting," she said.

"I was fucking marvellous, wasn't I?"

"That was honestly such a quick reaction, I'm still reeling at how impressive it was," she added. "Did you literally kick down our bedroom door?"

"I was feeling in the moment … I promise I'll fix that."

"Fred, serious for a moment. You looked after her. My daughter needed help, and you came through," she told me, a fierce mama look suddenly in her eyes. "It doesn't matter that it happened while you were looking after her, she would have reacted at some point in her life. It wasn't your fault. And the fact that you care means so much to me."

"Gah, _Lib_ –" I complained as she skipped forward and hugged me tightly. But I ended up smirking anyway as I hugged her back, winding my arms around her. Quite honestly, I'd expected her to hate me for nearly ruining her daughter's life (to be dramatic) and I don't think I could survive without Libby in my life anymore! I mean, James was the best mate, but Libby was also my friend. My homie. MAH GIRL. Let's face it, she kept me in line. She squeezed me for another second before pulling back.

"So Clara's seriously gonnna be ok?" I asked her then.

"Yeah, just like the Healer said," she nodded.

"Thank fucking Merlin!" I sighed.

"You are too cute sometimes, Fred," Libby smiled. "You really love Clara, don't you?"

"Hey, she's cool!" I said defensively.

"I gave birth to her, I know," Libby said. "You know, for all your protests that you 'don't do love' or are nothing if not a cynical bastard, you really do have an extraordinary amount of love in you. Don't sell yourself short. You're actually quite capable of such an emotion."

"I think I preferred it back when we were hugging and you weren't talking."

"I love you, too," Libby grinned.

It was only as we were filing back into the children's ward when Libby apparently remembered something. "Oh, and by the way," she muttered between her teeth so that James waving at us couldn't tell she was speaking. "You keep fucking over Emma, and I will cut you open and feed your entrails to a dragon. 'kay?"

"Hahaaaa … you're evil," I hissed back.

" _DRAGON, Fred_ – heeeey!" she added on the end, finally catching up with James and baby Clara, now soundly sleeping in the hospital-issued cot.

Libby Fletcher, you're fuckin' diabolical.

* * *

Turns out that Clara was indeed allergic to peanuts, along with any other nut-kinda thing, which unfortunately meant no more peanut butter for James. She was able to come home literally the next day. James also assured me that he wasn't mad either for letting his daughter accidentally discover her peanut allergy at five months old, and was also correct in that he would not let the topic of Emma go.

"Seriously, don't think I've forgotten talking about it!" he warned me when I dropped by to check that the Tiny Human was doing ok. "You've messed this up enough and you're hurting her now, so what the hell is going on, mate?"

"Nothing!"

"Like hell it's nothing, you've been ignoring her all month–"

"Look, maybe I'm trying to figure some shit out?" I threw back at him. "MAYBE, I don't need you sticking your bloody nose in!"

"Yeah, then _maybe_ you should tell Emma," James countered. "You know, talking it out! That thing that grown-ups do when they've got a problem? Or have we not reached that level yet?"

"Sod off, James–"

"TALK TO HER, you bloody eejit!" he rolled his eyes. "Now, face it, you're coming with us whether you like it or not."

"Oh, honestly. I only came to check on Clara," I sighed.

"But it's snowing!" Libby added, walking into their lounge with Clara, coats and scarfs already hanging over her arms. "Come on! It's the first time it's really properly snowed in London for years, and technically, it's Clara's first snow! Also, you're being a bastard to our friend, so you owe us."

Of course.

"FINE."

"Fantastic," Libby grinned. She tickled her daughter's face and said, "Clara, please do me a favour and never take life advice from Uncle Fred, ok?"

The Tiny Human kicked her lil legs in response.

So somehow, I have found myself here. With a baby in the most ridiculous winter onesie you can think of and her crazy parents dragging us all out to the picturesque landscape that was an event apparently called 'Winterville 2030!'. Honestly. It was a large fair set up in Hyde Park full of little wooden houses selling biscuits and trinkets, a travelling ice skating rink, thousands of flashing fairy lights through the pathways and vendors selling hot chocolates for over four pounds. There was also a large grotto that had apparently hosted Santa back before Christmas, and now was just a large wintery garden of toadstools, trees and other things for children to climb on. Yeah, I suppose to some it might seem 'cute', but it was more accurately ' _disgustingly grotesque_ '.

James and Libby were beside themselves, despite the fact that the snow clouds made it feel like it was late in the evening when in reality, it was barely four in the afternoon. It's funny, but now that I thought about it, I realised that while I'd slowly gotten used to the idea of James being a father, I had actually rarely gotten to see Libby as a mother. I guess we were both just too busy to make the time to see each other, and as a result, I was watching her a lot as we wandered the fair. James dragged a pram along with us but Libby currently held Clara in her arms. She kept one arm around her while the other held out a palm, catching snowflakes for her. Clara squealed as Libby teased her nose with a snowflake on the tip of her gloved finger and I grinned.

"Ok, so maybe I admit that my life's a bit of a mess," I said, dragging my feet.

Libby laughed as James behind us wrestled with the pram, the building snow apparently getting it stuck. "Ooh, wait Fred, you have to watch this!" she said then, pausing in the middle of the snow-covered and crowded pathway. Instead of letting Clara lean her head against her chest, she slowly used both arms to hold her daughter away from her body.

"What am I supposed to be seeing, other than you offering up your baby daughter?"

"Haven't you noticed that she can hold up her own head now?"

"She can?" I asked.

Libby rolled her eyes, moving so that Clara was snuggled securely against her once more. "One of these days, Fred."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Exactly how long are you on maternity leave for? I think spending every day with the Tiny One is driving you round the bend."

"Oh, I KNOW it's driving her round the bend!" James added.

Libby snorted, but answered, "I initially thought six months … quite honestly, I think I may end up going back soon, though. I love her and I love spending time with her, but I do miss my job and my girls. I mean, my other girls," Libby snuggled Clara closely, kissing the top of her hooded head. "I'll miss _this_ little girl a lot, of course."

It was nice just talking to Libby about Clara and other mundane things. This was what I needed! No panic mode, just the baby, snow and James and Libby getting too excited about everything. I bought them a deep fried curly potato on a stick each and held Clara for them as they went to find the 'bathroom'. I use quotes, because I eventually found them kissing furiously under the light of a lamp post about twenty feet from said bathrooms. Luckily, I was willing to give 'em some slack. Lord knows how often they got that. "Avert your sweet baby eyes, Clara!" I said, tucking her head under my chin. "This is not something for you to see until you're much older! Although, considering they're your parents, you'll probably never want to see this … OI, COOL IT!" I added in a yell over to them. "This is a family event!"

As James and Libby worked on getting a hold of themselves, I turned so that Clara could see the rest of the sights. We had made our way over towards the ice skating rink, next to a large expanse of park lawn, now covered in a layer of snow. As people skated around, families and kids played in the snow. A group of teenagers were mucking around, chucking snowballs at each other, while a small child accidentally fell over and disappeared completely. I snorted, glancing over at the ice skaters.

OH, FUCK.

"Clara," I said, weakly. "Do me a favour and tell me that's not Emma over there?"

Clara grabbed the tassel from my woolly hat and started chewing it.

"Yeah, I thought as much," I said. "JAMES! LIBBAAAAY!" I added, hurrying over to them hastily with their daughter, trailing the pram along behind me.

"Yeah, yeah, we heard you the first time," James grumbled. He had stepped back from Libby, though he kept an arm wrapped loosely around her. Libby's face under her hat was bright red, but she still gladly accepted Clara from me, the little girl protesting as she had to let go of my hat.

"It's not that," I said. "Although, yeah, you certainly needed me to intervene before things got a bit graphic out here in the snow! No, I was yelling because I think I'm hallucinating. Is that Emma over at the ice rink?"

James and Libby immediately looked over, Clara copying their movements, though the expression on her face was quite clearly _what the fuck are we looking at?_ Now that I looked over properly, there was absolutely no way I was hallucinating. That was Emma skating around with some bloke I had never ever seen before. Jesus Christ. A whole month avoiding her, and just my fucking luck, I had to see her out on a picturesque ice skating date! I've already had to witness this before with Sebastian Cortez, DOES THE UNIVERSE ACTUALLY FUCKING HATE ME?

"Ah …" Libby said and I suddenly wanted Clara back. Anything to ground me, because I'd been doing fine. No, seriously! Sure I was being a dickhead, but I was at least dealing with it! I'd talk to her eventually, I knew I had to. I missed her and she deserved it, but that spiralling feeling was suddenly raging and I couldn't fucking look away from her. She was in jeans and skating terribly, but she was laughing and having a good time with someone who wasn't me and Christ on a bike, _I didn't want to see this._

"WHY THE FUCK WHY?" I burst out.

"Well, what are the odds, huh?" James joked weakly.

"Is it not enough that I have to listen to her talk about sleeping with other people?" I cried. "I even had to watch her kiss someone else! WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO DESERVE THIS?"

"Well, I could think of something–" Libby began under her breath.

"LIBBY!" I cried.

"Just saying," she shrugged. "Fred, you're the one being a git. YOU are the one who's ignoring her. She's pissed, and I'm telling ya that if you hadn't gone apeshit and started avoiding her for no reason, she probably wouldn't be out there with someone else right now."

I sighed, because fuck. Libby was right.

Truth of the matter was that yes, I was bringing this on myself. James had once warned me not to do anything stupid, and here we were! I had to furiously wrench my eyes away. Whatever was happening in my head, everything that I was feeling, fuck it. I wasn't having it, it could just hang itself, because I'm going to be totally fine with this. I was! Enough with the strangling jealousy, enough with _sex with her or not at all_. All right, so I was in love with her. Big fucking deal. Emma deserved to be happy, but damn it, so did I!

And I can't keep doing this to myself. I couldn't keep doing it to her. I needed to fix this.

"Ooh, look, Clara! There's a big snowman," I pointed out.

"Fred–"

"Look, I know," I cut in quickly, glancing back at James and Libby. Even those looks might've been enough to snap me out of it, seeing as they were so disgustingly pitiful. "but I'm done. It's totally fine, ok?"

"I won't pretend to know what's going on in your head," James said. "but whatever you are, you're definitely not fine."

I didn't know how to answer, and I felt my eyes drifting. Naturally, I managed to seek her out immediately, Emma and her date having now skated to the edge and now chatting together as they unlaced their skates. It had been so long since I'd properly seen her that the ache of missing her thudded with each breath I took. She appeared to be talking easily to her date, but I noticed that she laughed nervously and held her arms across her chest which I don't think had anything to do with the cold. I realised that Emma was being remarkably brave at the moment, reaching out like that. Attempting to find something in common, flirting without being creepy or awkward … it was my usual one night stand talk that I'd use on any other girl in a bar, but I knew how hard it could be for Emma. I hadn't realised until that New Year's Eve that something so natural for me could be so tough for someone else. But here she was, doing it anyway. She was trying to make a connection.

Something painful stabbed in my chest.

"Yeah, maybe I'm not ok," I said, looking determinedly away once more. "but I promise you, I'm gonna be."

"Are we going out on another bender?" James asked. "Because if so, I've gotta cleanse first. I'm still feeling New Years, so I have to mentally prepare for going out drinking, these days–"

"Honestly," I scoffed. "I'm not going crazy!"

"Could've fooled meeee …" Libby whispered to Clara.

But thankfully, they dropped it. Thank the lord that those two got it, because they didn't even say anything else when I not so subtly dragged them over to the opposite side of the Winterville fair. I spent the rest of the evening lying in the snow and dragging my arms and legs through the slush, Clara nestled on my chest. With her lifting up her own head now, it was still a little freaky to glance up and see James' big brown eyes looking back at me. But I did my freaking best to concentrate on that little girl instead of another small female who was elsewhere nearby. No. I was fine, everything was going to be fine. I've decided that I'm just … not going to be in love anymore!

Yep, that was my new, foolproof plan. If it hadn't been for falling in love, everything would have stayed fine! Emma still would've been my best friend, nobody would hate me, _we would have been fine_. If I wanted to fix this, I had to get back to that, so getting over her was what I wanted!

And finally, truly getting over her was what was going to happen.

* * *

A/N: _Spoiler alert:_ lol Fred, honey, it won't work.

Fred will soon learn that it's not 'getting over her' that he needs to work on, it's 'being ok with the concept of loving Emma'. Boy's got a long way to go, and I invite you all to join me in kicking him in the balls, because he clearly needs it! How much of an idiot is he, on the aforementioned scale from 1-10?

(And don't worry, I would never seriously hurt Clara! She is basically my baby after all, haha).

But thank you so much for all your amazing comments! It has honestly been lovely seeing my family again, truly ... however, turns out that over the year I've been away, I've managed to forget exactly how crazy they are. I'm actually talking about Weasley family levels of crazy, which I assure you, I didn't think was possible! It's only been 1 week and I ... am exhausted, lol.

But still. I don't really know how I feel about the overall flow of this chapter, so please tell me what you think!

I LOVE Y'ALL.  
\- Moon. xoxo


	20. That one time I said it

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 20: That one time I said it.

 _How to fall out of love in 12 easy steps_

 _By Fred Anthony Weasley_

 _Look, I once told myself that if I wrote this shit down, I would make a fucking fortune._

 _Will I prove myself right? I don't know, but maybe my advice will help one of you pathetic losers out there who is still heart-eyes in love. For the record, my name is Fred Weasley (the second, bitches) and I FEEL YOUR PAIN. I know that I am suave, handsome and all that other good stuff you've heard about me, but I am finally ready to admit something:_

 _There was that one time I accidentally fell in love._

 _I know, say it with me: WTF, FRED?_

 _I did not mean to in the slightest! I still don't even know who to blame for it, really. The most obvious answer might be the woman in question that I fell for, but she didn't really do anything. So then I thought I might blame myself, but literally all I did was exist and it happened! The only other person I could think to switch the blame to would be my idiot best mate 4ever, James Potter, since he was the one who essentially introduced us, in a roundabout sort of way, but it wasn't like he was standing there in front of me, shoving her in my face and yelling, "FRED, THIS IS MY FRIEND EMMA, YOU SHOULD TOTALLY FALL IN LOVE WITH HER!"_

 _Well, he didn't do that at the time. I'm not saying anything about further down the line._

 _Hell, I could be here forever pointing blame if I went back far enough. I could even blame whoever the hell invented Halloween or parties or flirting! I could blame hormones and chemistry, I could even blame the bloody weather for all the good it would do me, because the fact remained that I FELL IN LOVE and I had absolutely no clue what to do to get me out of it._

 _But it's been a crazy month and I think I've finally got some ideas. Maybe you've fallen in love too. Maybe that's why you picked up my handy-dandy self-help guide here. Well, you want advice? I'LL GIVE YOU SOME FUCKIN' ADVICE. Look no further, folks! No matter who you've fallen in love with, no matter your gender, sexual orientation, or anything else for that matter, here is a sure fire way of how to fall out of love!_

 _And even better, IN 12 EASY STEPS._

* * *

This is the introduction to my new book. It's gonna be a bestseller, I can tell.

"Fred, what the hell are you doing?" Roxanne asked, peering over my shoulder.

"Writing a novel."

"I'm sorry. Are you drunk?"

"Roxie, I have decided that I need more hobbies," I threw her an exasperated look over the front counter of the shop. "Because apparently, all I do these days is work, drink and look after Clara, which I've realised is Sad and also Not Ok. Either way, I have decided that my new hobby is going to be writing!"

My younger sister scoffed so loudly I thought she was choking, before boosting herself up onto the counter in front of me. The Saturday morning was already bustling inside the joke shop and we both probably should have been working, but I'd been writing this shit ever since I'd arrived and Dad had hardly noticed, soooo … I shoved at Roxanne in irritation.

"Do you mind? Your arse is literally sat on my future bestselling novel!"

"What could you possibly have to write about?" Roxanne snorted.

"My very riveting life."

"As if. C'mon, let me read it!"

"Fuck off."

"You can't tell me about it and not let me read it," Roxanne complained. Of course she was still sat on it, so she used the opportunity to quickly whip the sheets of parchment I'd been scribbling on up away from me and above my head.

"HEY!"

"PLEEEEASE?"

"Roxie, give it back!" I panicked slightly and I think I accidentally wrenched her arm a little when I leapt to get it back off her. She let out an unholy shriek, which made several disturbed customers look over anxiously.

"Christ, Fred, what the hell is wrong with you?" Roxanne cried, rubbing her shoulder as I clutched my precious novel to my chest. "I wasn't actually gonna read it!"

"Yeah, but I can't trust you, can I?"

"FRED. You practically ripped my arm off! What gives?"

Ok, so maybe I felt a bit bad for actually hurting her. I glanced up to PERHAPS apologise a little, but as I looked up at my sister sitting next to me, still whining and clutching her arm like it might fall off, I realised that I actually barely knew her. I mean, I know the baby sister version of Roxanne, the little girl who would annoy me as a kid, but I didn't know anything about her now. I never ask her about her life. For all I knew, she had been in a situation similar to mine, and I'd never know because I could never be arsed finding out! While the thought of asking my little sister for advice on this was mortifying, I was also fast running out of options. In disbelief that I was even considering it, I slowly lowered my novel back to the counter. Then, I asked quietly,

"Roxie … you ever been in love?"

I almost thought Roxanne was about to fall off the counter.

"Where the flying fuck did THAT question come from?"

"Call it research for my book," I shrugged. "C'mon, you ever been in love before?"

"I … Christ, Fred. No. I've never been in love."

"And are you happy or sad about that?"

Roxanne raised an eyebrow. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Splendid! Seriously, Roxie," I said. "I need to know more about the nuances of the heart! This is shit that nobody teaches you once you leave school, like keeping a balanced diet and doing your tax returns. You're so insistent to read it, so you can at least help me out a little."

Roxanne was almost laughing at me now. "What in the world are you writing about?"

"A 12 step programme. Now spill."

"Well, for starters, I'm gonna check you out for a head injury once we're done here," Roxanne said. But then she wiggled a little, rolling out her arm gingerly as she spoke to the counter top. "I dunno, Fred. Yeah, I want to fall in love someday, and I thought I had at some points, but please, those blokes couldn't handle me," She tossed her black curls back over her shoulder. "I want to get married and the whole lot, so I guess I'm a little pissed off that it hasn't happened yet, but I'll find him eventually! He's out there, just you wait."

"You believe that there's one person out there who's just for you?"

"Of course," Roxanne shrugged.

"So I guess then you've never had to … like, fall out of love?"

"Mmmm … nah," Roxanne shrugged. "If they suck, they suck. Just move on to the next one. Which reminds me, I got a date, so can you cover me at lunchtime?"

"Fuck off, bitch," I scoffed.

"Well, I tried," Roxanne sniggered, before peering at me closely. "So where are all these questions seriously coming from? Start talking, or I'll start accusing and I don't think you want me to announce what I'd have to say over the loudspeaker to all these lovely customers …"

"You wouldn't."

"Bitch, you know I would."

We silently had a bit of a glare off for several moments until we were interrupted by someone asking,

"Erm … I'd like to make a purchase–?"

" _Not now!_ " Roxanne and I both cried, and the slightly scared customer quickly backed off.

Roxanne slammed a hand down onto the pages of my novel that I had foolishly let rest on the counter once more. She didn't move it, but in one sweep that I'd be powerless to stop, she would have my (albeit stunningly written) words in her hands and at my mercy. "Fine," I practically snarled. "I will give you one word in explanation for all this. ONE WORD, you hear me? And I expect a full pay out of advice afterwards!"

"I'm listening."

I sighed.

"Emma."

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Roxanne immediately screeched, thankfully letting go of my novel so that she could punch the air enthusiastically. I snatched up the pages as she basically threw herself off the front counter in excitement and disappeared behind the Pygmy Puff cage. There was a loud _thump_ and the bars rattled as Roxanne cackled from the floor.

"Did you just break your arse?" I called over.

"WORTH IT," Roxanne yelled.

"Hello, my beloved employees!"

Great. The scared customer was back, and this time she'd brought Dad with her. He was standing next to the lady with his arms folded, tongue clicking at us as Roxanne sheepishly popped her head back up again and I hastily shoved my novel down my trousers for a lack of anywhere else to hide it.

"Sup?" I tried.

"Yes, thank you, now that I have your attention," Dad threw us both looks. Uh, oh. He was pissed. "Mind looking up and noticing the ten foot long line of people waiting for someone to serve them?"

"Uhhh …"

"GET TO IT. Otherwise I shall feed you to the sharks," Dad threatened. He then turned and joked with the lady next to him, "Don't worry, our actual sharks are on loan at the London Zoo at the moment."

Well and truly told off, at least it meant that Roxanne couldn't get on my back as we were forced into actually doing what we were supposed to be doing. She sent me a glare and mouthed, " _This isn't over!_ " as she darted off to answer customer questions. I avoided her pointed looks the entire time serving the line and working throughout the afternoon, because I don't know WHAT possessed me to think that talking to my sister was a good idea! Thing was, time was of the essence if I wanted to fix this, because I know Emma. She would only put up with my shit for so long until she would eventually tell me to piss off and leave her alone. Hell, I'm surprised that her arsehole quota wasn't used up already!

I never thought that I could be worse than Mark, but apparently I'm doing my damnedest to try.

See, turns out that getting over Emma Terry wasn't quite as easy as I'd originally thought it was going to be. I know, I had been full of grand ideas and optimism back at that winter fair. You know, when I was trying not to watch as she skated around with some bloke with perfect hair and a name probably like 'Chad' or something, but don't worry, harsh reality soon fixed any positive thinking I might've had! Truth was, I'd slowly been falling in love with her ever since we met. How do you even begin to get over something like that? The reason I was at this point anyway was because nothing was working! I was getting desperate and starting to panic that perhaps, I really HAD fucked this up forever. I guess if anyone was going to do it, it would be me, _amiright?_

Fred Weasley: Human Disaster.

(Ooh, that could be a good title for my book!)

"You're in love with Emma."

"Oh, hi," I said casually, glancing over my shoulder at my sister, who had just appeared out of nowhere. "You goin' my way, doll?"

"Shut up. You're in love with Emma!" she felt the need to reiterate.

"Guess that's the news for today," I shrugged. "Have you locked up?"

"Some of the others are still cleaning, they'll do it," Roxanne fell into step next to me as we finally left the joke shop at the end of the day. Dad hadn't been particularly happy with us most of the time, but he shouldn't complain, he gets free labour out of us! Apparently, I wasn't going to be shaking Roxanne anytime soon, however, so I just accepted the inevitable and let her walk with me down Diagon Alley.

"Soooo, are you gonna start talking, or do I need to break out the medieval torture?"

"Why medieval, of all time periods?"

"I don't fucking know, why are YOU in love with Emma and suddenly talking to me about it?"

"I'M talking about it?"

"Well, you brought it up!" Roxanne cried, flinging her arms dramatically into the air and nearly taking me out with her 200 Galleon purse. "Clearly, a part of you wants to talk about this, so spill!"

"Maybe it's all just book research."

"Bullshit. You hated writing essays for homework."

"Are you saying that I will never make it as a bestselling author?"

"I'm saying that this isn't like you!" Roxanne said, exasperatedly.

"Look, MAYBE I'm getting a little desperate trying to figure out what to do," I eventually sighed.

I don't know how I expected anything serious from my little sister. Roxanne mock contemplated my words for a moment, biting her lip and resting a hand on her hip. "Oh, I dunno," she said. " _How about fucking telling her?_ "

"Ok, let's start with I will try literally anything else at this point, EXCEPT that," I said.

"Oh, come on, WHYYYYY?" Roxanne complained.

"Because I fucked up and now she hates me!" I said. "Because what if she says it back? Because just the thought of it makes me want to vomit and – OH, LOOK, I'm panicking again!"

"Calm down, you eejit," Roxanne smacked my arm. "Tell me. What did you do?"

"I … may have been avoiding her, recently."

"Oh my god."

"It's bad, huh?"

"There's no recovering!" Roxanne announced. "Cut and run, my dear brother, because your arse is not worth it and if Emma has any shred of self-respect, she will be happy if she never hears from you again! We don't deserve shit like that. NO ONE deserves shit like that, Fred."

" _I know_ ," I stressed. "That's why–! Jesus, look. I want to fix this. I _have_ to fix this. But to do that, I have to get over her and I don't know how. It's why I started writing a book! I thought I might be able to generate some ideas, but I got stuck after the introduction."

"A 12 step programme? Really?" Roxanne snorted.

"Well then, YOU tell me what to do!" I cried.

"Well, for starters, you fucking apologise!" Roxanne shot me a look under the glow of the street lamps starting to turn on down the street. "Tell her that yes, you're an idiot, you totally understand if she wants nothing more to do with you. Tell her you've been dealing with shit recently and you've needed space, but she's still your friend and you're hoping that she'll still be there when you need each other. You should've said all this to begin with!"

"But that would've meant actually talking about it," I pointed out.

"Oh, no. TALKING about it?" Roxanne taunted. "You've never had a serious conversation in your life, have you?"

"Not about this, no," I said, honestly.

"Yikes," Roxanne was grimacing, but it only took a second for that to change. She skipped over the cobblestones a moment, grabbing at my elbow as she added with a grin, "Although, you know, I never thought I'd see the day my brother fell in love! I mean, YOU!"

"Thanks, Roxie, I feel loads better."

"Just saying!"

"Look, are you going to tell me what to do or not?" I snapped. "I have to get over her SOMEHOW, otherwise I'll never be able to talk to her again, and I'm starting to die a little inside over it! I've tried sleeping with every other woman in London, I've tried being her friend, I've tried _not_ being her friend, I'm literally out of luck and out of ideas, here!"

"Fine," Roxanne sighed. She tugged on my elbow, linking her arm around it and pulling me close to her side. "Just putting it out there, though, my first piece of advice would be to just … NOT get over her. Instead, accept it. Then tell her, so you can be two idiots in love instead of one."

"Next option."

"FRED."

"I heard you!" I insisted. "I've considered, and I'm tellin' ya: _next option_."

"In that case," Roxanne shrugged, but she struggled for words. "I … look, I don't know what else you want me to say. You can't stay her friend if you're gonna keep acting like this. Not only are you the world's biggest dipshit, but she's going to find out eventually. You can't keep it a secret, because she's not bloody stupid. She'll catch on."

"So basically, what you're saying," I said, eyes narrowing. "Is that it's either tell her … or move to Guatemala?"

"Basically. But please don't move to Guatemala, Mum would KILL me."

I weighed the options. I honestly felt like I was teetering on the edge these days, because what else could I possibly do? I was at the end and fast running out of options and god, all I wanted was to see her. I missed her every fucking second of every fucking day. I missed her shoulder bumping into mine and the way she teased me about my flamingo umbrella stand. I missed her getting excited about mummies and the fact that she always cared. I missed her smile and her wild hair and the way her body felt like it was made for mine whenever we had been pressed together. I missed kissing her and feeling her smirk as she sucked a trail down my neck. I missed her hands, her touch …

Oh my god.

I … I think I have to tell her.

"Roxie," I said. My throat was suddenly rather dry. "If I say anything, and she …"

Roxanne stopped dead in the middle of the street, and she hauled me to a stop next to her. We had wandered almost the entire length back to the Leaky Cauldron by this point, and all the lights had turned on in the rapidly falling darkness. One night a week, Diagon Alley had started holding a night market down this end of the street, and the vendors were starting to set up and open around us. People were gathering to buy food and browse the crafts on sale and it was the exact kind of place that Emma and I might have gone one night together. Back when we were friends, when we would do shit and I wouldn't worry. Was it ever possible to get that back? My sister let me go to fold her arms and throw me her sceptical gaze.

"Look, bro," she said. "what are you more scared of? That she won't love you back – or that she will?"

I think we all know the answer to that.

* * *

I just gotta do it.

Quite honestly, I think my brain hasn't exactly caught up to the rest of my body yet. I should be FREAKING THE FUCK OUT right about now! I mean, have you not been listening?! _I just agreed to tell a girl that I've fallen in love with her!_ I should be in Crisis Mode! I should be in fucking Guatemala by now, drinking tequila by the ocean! I SHOULD BE SCREAMING–!

Oh, ok, I think I'm caught up now.

I don't know why the hell I decided to do this. Dear god, I think my knees are about to give out. But the idea was in my head and it was petrifying and thrilling and made me want to cry all at the same time. Had everything been building up to this? To me, making an idiot of myself, me pouring out my heart even though I hadn't realised I even had much of a heart to pour? Never in my wildest dreams at that party on Halloween had I anticipated getting to this point. Of course I was more scared of Emma loving me back than of her not. Roxanne knew it, everyone in London must fucking know it! But I lied when I said that I'd done everything. This was the only tactic that I had been yet to try, for obvious reasons, but what if it was the one that worked? Perhaps, _perhaps_ … this was what I needed. To just get it out, to finally acknowledge it and say, 'yeah, I love you' and then I would be able to finally just move past it? I was about to snap from doing nothing, so I had to give it a shot. It would be like a release, right? I'd let all the emotion out, and then I would be back to normal! Back to usual, not terrifying, ordinary Fred Weasley. Hell, Emma might even appreciate me being honest for a change!

I soon discovered that there was a flaw in what I was now calling my genius plan, however:

She refused to see me.

I guess I'd gotten rather caught up in the planning and the 969483736633 panics that I'd had over this, that I quite forgot exactly how mad at me she was. It took two Firewhiskey's to get me there, but I eventually brought myself to knock on her front door. However, it was to only get her flatmate answering.

"What do you want?" she deadpanned.

"Charmaine! Looking as bright and chipper as ever," I said cheerfully. "Is Emma there?"

"Are you fucking kidding me."

"Wow. There was barely an inflection in that sentence. Are you sure that you're an actual human?"

"Fuck off, asshat."

SLAM.

"Ah," I said to the door.

Like I said. Tiny flaw.

I could have fought it. I should have. I had no doubt in my mind that Emma was in that flat, probably lazing around in her adorbs Yoda onesie and still stabbing pins into my voodoo doll. She was just refusing to see me. If I had any guts at all, I would walk back over and pound on the wood once more until I got her attention. Hell, why wasn't I yelling 'I LOVE YOU' through the door?

MAYBE BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE PASSING OUT.

"Oh, darn. Next time!" I said out loud to nothing. I swung around and hastily hurried for the stairs, before anyone in this building had a chance to change their minds. I was just bounding down the stairs two at a time when I accidentally crashed into someone at the bottom.

"Whoa–!"

The someone was little and they bounced back off me and hit the floor while I staggered. "Shit! Are you all right?" I asked.

Glancing down, I realised that in my haste to get out of there, I had accidentally bowled straight into a young girl. As I offered out a hand to pick her up from where she was sprawled on the concrete floor, I recognised her as one of the kids from Emma's building that we'd played Quidditch with once.

"Wait! I remember you," I said. "You're Ruby, right?"

"Um, yeah," she said. She took my hand and let me pull her to her feet, but she hung back slightly once she was upright. Her dirty blonde hair was askew and a mess on her head, and I noticed that her face was flushed and quivering.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Fred. Do you remember, I'm, uh …" 'A friend of Emma's' felt fake to say, but what other descriptor did I have? "We played Quidditch together once. During the Christmas holidays?"

"Oh, yeah!" Thankfully, Ruby's face seemed to brighten at the memory. "You're Emma's boyfriend, right?"

"Not her boyfriend, but I know her," I answered. "Are you ok? I know I totally slammed into you there!"

"Aw, I'm fine. One time I cracked my head open in the courtyard."

"Blimey," I blinked. "And you're still in one piece?"

"I had to go to hospital!" Ruby was apparently warming up a little, smiling and bounding forward as she spoke. "'cause I was sitting up on the rubbish skip, righ'? And Tommy from a few flats down pushed me and I had to get the cut magically sealed! You shoulda seen it, blood was gushin' everywhere!"

"I'll bet."

"So what're you doing here?"

"I came to see Emma," I admitted. "But uh, turns out she's not in. What are YOU doing out here by yourself?"

Young Ruby just shrugged.

"Should I be escorting you back home, young lady?"

"Like you could," she threw back.

"Cheeky bugger," I grinned. "You can't be out by yourself. I mean you're what, 10 years old?"

"I'm 11!"

"Oh, well, that settles it," I said. "Of course, it's fine then. Carry on where you were going! I totally won't bother with ya."

"I was just gonna hang outside, _really_ ," Ruby insisted. "I don't wanna go home."

I eyed her a moment and remembered the look on her small face when I'd run into her. This girl could be Clara in 10 years' time. I would never let my favourite Tiny Human be out here alone at this age, so I wasn't about to do it to Ruby either. I noticed that the direction she'd been heading in was indeed the open courtyard and even though it was frosty as shit out there, I jerked my head towards it.

"You wanna go hang, then?" I asked.

She nodded.

We ended up sat on top of the rubbish skip, Ruby regaling me with more of her adventures of the time she fell off it. It was cold as balls and I could still see Emma's front door from here. There was the balcony above us and the railings that we sat against sometimes. I hoped and also feared the idea of Emma spotting us out here. I wondered vaguely if that was why I was still there, because a part of me hoped that she might notice? I glanced over at Ruby again though, and noticed that she only had a thin jumper on to combat the cold. Our breath misted in front of us and I ended up giving the girl my jacket to wear as she started shivering uncontrollably, teeth chattering even as she tried to keep talking with the same speed of a race horse.

"So go on then," I asked Ruby once she'd taken a breath. "Why did you run outside with no jacket on, in freezing temperatures?"

"Uggggh," Ruby gave the most exasperated sigh I think I'd ever heard. "I just HATE my foster mum!"

That's right. I'd forgotten that she and her siblings were in the system. "MUMS, amiright?" I sympathised. "What'd she do?"

"She just treats me like a baby," Ruby complained. "I'm not – I'm even going to Hogwarts this September! I'm old enough, I can think for myself, and _I know_ that I don't wanna see my real mum. She sucks, but Debbie – that's my foster mum – she keeps telling my social worker that she thinks it would be good for us or whatever. She won't listen! She NEVER listens to me!"

"You're the oldest, right?"

"Yeah, I have three little brothers," Ruby said. "They're lots littler than me. But I swear I'm not a baby, I can make my own decisions!"

"I'm sure you can," I said.

"So why does Debbie keep acting like I'm a baby?"

I didn't really find myself fully equipped to answer this. Hell, I'd ended up in this conversation kind of on a whirlwind chance here! Maybe James or Libby might've known exactly what to say, being actual parents and everything, but all I had to go on was what I imagined I might tell Clara, if this was her asking me when she eventually reaches 11 years old. Still, I felt like I should at least try.

"I mean, Emma told me that you haven't been living with Debbie long, right?" I asked and Ruby nodded. "Ok, so like … I'm sure she wants you to be happy, but she's the adult, so she thinks she knows what's best for you."

"Well, she doesn't!"

"Your real mum that bad, huh?"

"She's in prison," Ruby explained.

"What about Dad?"

"Don't got one."

I winced for the young girl. "I'm sorry."

"I just don't want to see her," Ruby mumbled. "but I'm afraid my social worker will make me."

"Surely she can't make you do something you don't want to do?"

"She made me live with Debbie."

"Maybe you need a new foster family?"

"I want to be adopted!" Ruby said determinedly. She swung her legs down the front of the rubbish skip, kicking into the sides lightly with the edges of her shabby shoes. "Not just another foster family, me and my brothers, I want us to all be adopted! One family almost did, but they only wanted my littlest brother, 'cause he's the cutest, they didn't want the rest of us. He didn't go in the end."

"It must be hard."

"Can you adopt us?" Ruby asked.

I outright laughed. "Ruby, girl, you don't want me to adopt you!" I grinned. "Trust me, I can barely look after myself!" I felt for the girl, though. I had no idea how the foster system really worked, so for all I knew, Ruby had absolutely no say in where she or her siblings went. Soon she would be going to Hogwarts, leaving her brothers behind and as I watched Ruby, I just kept imagining Clara in the system. I mean, I knew that it would realistically never happen. She went to Al and Bea if anything, lord fucking forbid, happened to James and Libby, but blimey, _what if?_ If it came to it, I knew that I would take Clara in a heartbeat. If I was asked, literally how could I not? But KIDS. ME AND KIDS.

I mean, Christ. I have enough issues of my own!

Ruby was quiet a moment as she took this in. She snuggled deeper into my jacket and I shivered a bit, but let her just sit there a while. I was staring up at Emma's front door when Ruby asked me,

"Can you come play Quidditch with us again sometime?"

"Ah – I don't know," I said. "I don't really come round here much anymore."

"Why not?"

"Emma … she's kind of angry at me, right now."

"Well, DUH, go say sorry," Ruby rolled her eyes at me. "Then she can play too, even though she sucks at Quidditch. OH MY GOD, wait, I forgot that you know James Potter, right?! You have to let me meet him, you said we could meet him last time – PLEEEASE–?"

"Well, that didn't take long," I snorted. "Look, I can't make promises. James has a baby daughter to look after and he's really busy, but I know that he'd be more than happy to meet you and the rest of the kids here if he could. I can try and see what I can do?"

"That would be so amazin'!" Ruby practically burst with excitement. "Oh my god, I LOVE HIM, he's the best Quidditch player! The Cheetahs are the best team, who do you support?"

"You kidding? Cheetahs all the way, girl!"

"YEAH! You can't ever like the Tornadoes though, ok? 'cause they're rivals and then I won't be able to like you."

"Ugh. Who would ever like the Tornadoes?"

"Right? See, you gotta come play with us!"

"I … I'll try, Ruby," I glanced away from her. "I gotta try and make it up to Emma first, is all."

Ruby peered at me closely for a moment. "Why is she mad at you?"

Panic seized my throat once more when I remembered. WELP, I'd at least managed to go a little while without that! I had hoped that I would manage to keep my cool until I could actually plan a way to do this and not just flip out, but hey, I won't count on it. I guess that if I'd had my way from the beginning, I wouldn't even have anything to do with Emma, apart from one awesome memory of a night on Halloween that one time … I debated how much to tell curious Ruby. However, just as I had decided not to say anything, least she blab to Emma, I realised that she'd probably dealt with stupid adults not telling her stuff her whole life.

Maybe the girl deserved a little honesty for a change.

"I fell in love with her."

That's actually the first time I think I've ever said the words out loud. Roxanne managed to just read between the lines, so I'd never had to say it until now. A sweat broke out, despite the freezing temperatures, but thankfully Ruby remained calm.

"Cool," she answered casually. "but why did that make her angry?"

"I didn't know how to handle it, so I stopped talking to her," I sighed. "Excuse my language, but I'm a fucking arsehole."

Of course, Ruby just grinned. "Debbie thinks I don't know what 'fuck' means, but actually, I know all the swear words!"

"Good. Don't say them around her."

"Can say 'em around you?"

"Sure."

"COOL, so just tell Emma that you fucking love her!" Ruby said delightfully. "Then you can be together, and we can all play Quidditch again!"

"Everything comes back to Quidditch with you, doesn't it?" I smiled.

"Duh."

I just snorted. "C'mon, girl," I said, jumping off the rubbish skip and holding up a hand to help Ruby down. "I'm freezing my arse off, so let's get you home."

* * *

It took me a long time to realise that I actually sent Ruby home still wearing my jacket. Ah well, she can keep it, I guess. The attempts at talking to Emma didn't exactly get much better from there. I probably could have spoken to her a hundred times over if I actually put in the right amount of effort, but I found myself purposefully sending owls when I knew she wasn't home, or sending half-hearted messages through other people.

"I ain't your messenger boy, Fred," James had told me at one point, Clara squealing and wiggling in his lap. "You want to talk to Emma, you go and bloody talk to her!"

"But she's refusing to see me!"

"And who's fault is that?"

"MATE, I AM TRYING," I complained. "I've been trying for days! But she won't answer my owls, and every time I go directly to her door, her fucking flatmate is there with a ten foot pole, ready to throw me off the balcony! I don't know what else to do–"

James sighed, but plonked his fussing daughter onto my lap so that he could stand. "Well, you may actually be in luck for a change," he said, moving across the room to the kitchen so that he could apparently heat up a bottle for Clara. "'cause you have happened to wonderfully drop by on the one night we're going out and Emma's coming here."

I almost fucking dropped Clara.

" _She's coming here?_ " I asked hoarsely.

James stuck his amused face back around the kitchen doorway. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, but–" Holy shit, oh my god – I hadn't been prepared for this! I was just dropping randomly by after work to relay another message. My encounter with young Ruby had also given me a desire to catch up with my favourite Tiny Human, so I'd just crashed James and Libby's place like usual. I hadn't counted on Emma actually planning on coming here too! Can I even remember how to breathe?

OH MY GOD, BREATHE, FRED! BREATHE!

"Where – where are you going?" I managed to choke.

"You mean today's date didn't remind you of anything?" James snorted, walking back into the lounge.

"Should it?"

"Exactly a year ago, you were yelling at Emma across a crowded café."

"Oh, shit – it's your anniversary?" I asked. "Mate, I'm sorry, I didn't know–"

"Clearly," James rolled his eyes. "Fred, it's fine. I only expect you to remember my birthday. As long as you don't fuck up this one and Libby and I get to spend it alone this time, I'm cool. Emma offered to babysit for us this night because she wanted to spend some time with Clara, so she's due to arrive seriously I think in about fifteen minutes–?"

"Oh god," Libby's voice suddenly joined the conversation. As James paused next to myself and Clara on the sofa, he turned to see her emerge from their bedroom as she spoke. Libby was in the process of putting an earring in as she noticed me and said, "YOU. You better not be in the middle of some other emotional breakdown, because I swear to Merlin–"

"Nah, nah. I had no idea what day this was, just stopping by. Lookin' hot, Lib!" I added. I also tugged the bottle of warm milk out of James' slack hand as Clara was positively moaning and James look on the verge of doing the same thing. Quite honestly, I hadn't seen him _ever_ look at a woman like that before he met Libby. Several years ago, I might've been disgusted, even actively tried to dissuade him from looking at her like that, but absolutely nothing I could have said would've made a difference. Before Libby could say another word, James had crossed the room, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard.

"I know, I know," I told Clara. I think I could remember how to feed her, and I carefully moved her small body so that she lay comfortably and could start scoffing down her milk. "They're adorable and disgusting all at the same time."

Clara couldn't have cared less that her parents were ignoring her; she seemed to be happy eating with me supporting her. I opened my mouth to yell at them to cool it, but I got stuck watching them kiss for a moment. James and Libby were so happy. They often didn't seem it, what with them constantly being exhausted and complaining about it very loudly, but seeing them together now and swept off their feet … they were in love _and they were happy._ I felt like I hadn't been truly happy since … I don't even remember. Was it before I met Emma? Or after?

Without warning, I got the sudden mental image of that morning on Valentine's Day. The morning I'd woken up with an arm wrapped around her, our legs tangled and her hair in my face.

I don't know why.

"If you guys don't stop, you're not even gonna make it out of the flat!" I called over. "Just saying!"

It worked in breaking James and Libby apart. I concentrated on Clara in amusement while Libby, face pink, told James that it could be his turn to go get ready now. As he moved away, she drew closer and asked,

"Sorry. Also, not sorry. You want me to take her?"

"Naw, she's comfy, I think," I shrugged. Clara snuffled against the bottle a moment but seemed content. I looked up at Libby and added, "Unless you want her back?"

"I'm ok for now," Libby sat next to me. Her purple dress honestly was stunning, so I told her again and she laughed.

"Thanks, Fred," she said. "James kind of loves this dress, so. I wasn't sure I could still fit into it, but a couple of engorgement charms did the trick. I need to start shifting all this bloody baby weight."

"Get out, you look fine to me," I scoffed.

Libby smiled in a silent thank you, but before she could say anything more, the fireplace suddenly roared. Immediately, my stomach dropped out.

FUCK.

Emma tumbled out, her clothes askew from the flames and calling out, "WHOA! Hey guys, I'm hereeeee! James? Libby?"

"Hey, Em!" Libby bounded up at once, happily moving across the lounge towards her. Emma also complimented Libby on how amazing she looked before hugging her and I was silently screaming in my head about how the fuck I could manage to get out of here without making it look like I wanted to get out of here. Problem was, I still had Clara in my arms, currently eating! Girl, hurry the fuck up! WHO'S APPETITE DID YOU INHERIT?! JESUS!

When Emma saw me over Libby's shoulder, she blanched.

" _What is he doing here?!_ " she hissed into Libby's ear.

" _To be honest, I'm not sure_ ," Libby whispered back.

"OH, HEY!" I practically yelled. "Don't mind me, just swingin' on by! Tiny Human got hungry, so I figured I'd help out so the parentals could snog or whatever. I'll just be leaving once she's done–"

"Fred, you're speaking about a 100 miles a second," Libby pointed out, cheerfully.

"Am I?" I asked. "I had no idea–"

Libby, the bastard, seemed to think it was a good idea then to abandon us. While it was nice to know that she still trusted me to be alone with her daughter, despite the fact that I nearly killed her with peanut butter the last time, I was also livid. Thankfully, Clara's appetite was certainly one you wouldn't want to challenge. I don't know where she bloody puts it all, but she finished her bottle fairly quickly and I could stand with a rag over my shoulder. Moving around gave me something to do and a way to avoid Emma's eye. She wasn't saying anything, I think she was trying not to watch me either and every second was more tension-filled than the last. I kept screaming at myself to just concentrate on Clara, you don't want to end up with baby vomit down your back, but it was a nightmare doing so. Here she was, after all my attempts to get her attention and talk to her, and now I, OF COURSE, wasn't saying a fucking thing.

By the time James and Libby came back, I was a little on edge.

"RIGHT, ima let you guys get going!" I practically shouted. I shoved the now rather sleepy Clara in Emma's direction without looking at her, and she took the baby hastily off me. James and Libby exchanged amused looks as I continued. "I won't keep you, I learned my lesson last year – don't come between James and Libby on their anniversary! Seriously, congratulations – I'll catch ya later, Clara's all fed now, she'll probably sleep – look at me, sounding like I actually know what I'm fucking doing! HAHAHA! Oh my god, I'm losing it – BYEEEEEEE!"

And I ran out the front door with a slam.

I let out a long breath and smacked my head against the wood. It hit with a low _thunk_. I was stuck catching the underground home now, since I'd run out without thinking that I actually needed the fireplace to get anywhere, and I sure as hell wasn't going back in once I was out. I wished that I had moved though, as the sounds I heard faintly through the door weren't fun to listen to.

" _… never trustin' another bloke ever again!_ " Emma's muffled voice was saying. " _I'm sick of it! What the fuck was that – what did I ever do?_ "

" _Emma_ ," That was Libby. She sighed and I heard a rustling as people moved. Maybe an arm was winding around her shoulders. " _He's a dickhead, but whatever he's got going on, it's not your fault, ok?_ "

" _I'm just sick of it_ ," Emma said again, and her voice was breaking. I heard soft cries muffle themselves against a hand or maybe a shoulder as she said, " _I just … want 'im to – I'm sorry, I'm sorry – I just wish I knew what the hell went wrong …_ "

Fred, you fucking DIPSHIT.

I hate myself.

* * *

I had to tell her.

 _I had to tell her_.

I. HAD. TO. FUCKING. TELL. HER.

The thought of Emma thinking that she was the one in the wrong, that she had messed up somehow and caused me to act like this … it wasn't ok. I was fine torturing myself – I'm rather good at it, actually – but I couldn't keep torturing her. I forced myself to let James and Libby finally celebrate their anniversary without any interruptions, but I didn't hold out much longer afterwards. I had to bloody tell her before I messed this up for good! Last time, it took two Firewhiskey's to get me to her door, but this time I hit two and the nerves had hardly dissipated. So I had one more. And another. Or maybe five more? … look, eventually, I lost count and it was at that point that I started thinking that maybe I could do it. Maybe I could finally say the words I needed to say, and I tripped over empty bottles in my haste to stand. I could do it! If I cared enough, if I wanted Emma to stay my friend, if I wanted to get over it, then I COULD DO THIS!

 _I COULD DO THIS!_

"I NEED TO SPEAK TO EMMAAAAA!" I yelled, pounding on her door.

Do not ask me how I got here. I have no bloody clue. I can't even remember leaving my flat! All I knew was that I was here, I was doing it this time, I wasn't going to back out or back down, _I was doing ittttt!_

"EMMAAAAA!" I yelled wildly once the door opened.

Charmaine sighed, before glancing back inside. "Em, I think it's for you," she called. "Still want me to kick his arse?"

" _Oh, no_ ," I heard her voice growl. There was rustling and feet stomping.

Good, she's angry. She can never ignore me when she's angry.

Charmaine stepped aside to let Emma storm into view. Everything inside me burst. Of course she was wearing her Yoda onesie. _Of course_. The hood was off, but the rest of her was clad in green fuzz and Christ, she's beautiful. She's glaring the hell out of me. My head was spinning. What's my name, again?

"You know what?" she glared, folding her arms as she stared at me in the doorway. "I was finally going to tell you to fuck off myself, but now I'm realising that actually, I'm curious! So by all means, come in! Whoa …" she added as I stumbled inside and slammed into the nearest wall to keep me upright. " _Are you drunk?_ "

"Your face is drunk!"

"Oh, come on, Fred! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Emma yelled, throwing up her arms.

I noticed that Charmaine had not-so-subtly walked out the front door and disappeared.

Before I could even begin to defend myself (not that I really deserved defending, but it was a natural instinct) Emma carried on in a tirade that made her face red and hair stand on end. "You ignore me for _weeks_ and suddenly, you think it's ok to start trying to talk to me again out of the blue? I'm sorry, but that's not how this fucking works! So, FUCK YOU, Fred! Fuck you and all your shit because I'm not taking it anymore! You want to be my friend, be my friend, don't fucking DUMP ME for no reason and treat it like it's no big deal! Do you have ANY idea what I've been thinking the last month? I thought something was wrong! I thought I'd pissed you off, I thought I'd done something to you, _I felt fucking terrible_ , Fred! But what? You're just being a dickhead? I hate you! WELL?" she added, folding her arms with a huff. "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?"

… I think I am, what they call, up shit creek.

"How did I get here?" I asked vaguely.

" _What?_ "

"No, seriously, I don' remember coming here – I just remember drinkin' and – there was a _lot_ of drinkin' – WAIT–"

"THIS ISN'T HELPING!"

"Why are you yelling at me?"

" _YOU HAVE COMPLETELY IGNORED ME FOR A MONTH!_ " Emma flung her arms up in exasperation.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled about as loudly as I could manage. "I'm sorry, I am so fucking sorry that I don't even know what to say! I was so fine before I met you, but now – oh, look, I'm falling down again–"

Emma moved hastily as I realised that I was leaning the wrong way and toppled over from the wall. "WHOA!" I said, staggering back upright and grabbing hold of the wall once more.

"Don't kill yourself," Emma snarled. "Please."

"I mean it!" I added. "My life was great before you! It was fun and easy but then I had to go and meet you! You were supposed to be just another girl that I didn't care about, but I did, Jesus fuck, I did and DAMN IT, WHY?"

"Right," Emma rolled her eyes, turning away. "You just can't get over the fact that you are a dick at the end of the day and probably always will be. I get it. Get out of my flat before I get even more mad and hex you, Bonehead."

"No, wait, that came out wrong – shut up a sec!" I countered.

"I won't!" Emma suddenly span back, furious. "Fred, you're supposed to be my FRIEND! If you couldn't get over the fact that we used to sleep together, then you should have bloody SAID, rather than just ignored me and my owls to the point where I thought I'd hurt you somehow! What the hell? Who fucking DOES THAT?"

"Emma, you seriously didn't do anything wrong!"

"Right!" Emma scoffed. "So you're legit going with 'it's not you, it's me'?"

"Stop it!" I cried. "Just STOP IT, I CAN'T THINK–"

" _Why did you come here, Fred_?" Emma demanded.

"I love you!"

Hells bells, are we in a CRISIS.

Somewhere deep in my alcohol-soaked brain, I recognised the situation for what it was. Like, shit. What did I just say? But Emma was gaping at me and it was the truth: it was the exact reason why I had come here. I couldn't remember why I had been so determined to tell her at this point, all I knew was that I needed to. And I had! HOLY SHIT, I just told a girl a loved her! Why am I not panicking more over this? I should be dead on the floor! I should be screaming internally, but I was standing here watching her stare and I honestly don't know what I'd been hoping for in telling her this. I knew that I couldn't take the constant worry anymore. This woman had caused more trouble for me than I'd ever expected, but the fact remained that literally the entire reason I'd come here was because … I loved her.

And she had to know it.

Emma covered her mouth with a hand like she was trying not to cry.

"God, Fred–" she began.

"That's right!" I ploughed on. I apparently wasn't done yet. "Turns out that I'm in love with you! I don't know how I know it, I just do! I love you so fucking much that I wanna gouge my own eyes out and drink only tea again for the rest of my life! You are literally the only person who has ever made me this messed up. You are the first person I wanna tell when I get good news, and every time I fuck up, you're there to tell me what an idiot I'm being! You laugh at my jokes, even when I'm not funny, and every night I go to sleep I wish that you were there next to me. I love you, I love your sense of humour, your passion, the way you kiss me and your hair – we're – we're – Han and Leia! I don't fucking know, I don't know how to say any of this, I have no idea what I'm saying, but I hope you know that I'm trying – I am trying SO HARD – because I never ever wanted to hurt you and I'm so sorry for that, I really am! I love you, Emma Terry, so CONGRATULATIONS!" I yelled. "You are the first and only person who has managed to make me fall in love with them! So thank you, Emma! THANK YOU, AND GOODNIGHT!"

We stared at each other across her tiny lounge for a moment. I couldn't figure out the look on her face. Maybe I simply drank too much and that's the reason it was swimming? Oh my god, I really did say all that. I was about to throw up, I know it!

Actually –

I bolted for the kitchen sink. Emma hastily darted after me, but really, nothing else can be said after this, right? There's no recovering after throwing up in someone else's sink. As I heaved, I heard Emma sigh and felt her hand rub my back for a moment. I guess we can also cross off 'humiliated' from the list of emotions Fred has suffered tonight! Soon after heaving my guts out, I felt Emma's hands on my arms. I was handed a damp tea towel and steered towards her sofa, where I promptly collapsed in a pathetic heap.

Lights flicked off and there were muffled footsteps. I was basically already asleep, but someone said,

"You're welcome. Goodnight, Fred."

* * *

A/N: I don't know where to begin. Like, guys. Fred told a girl he loves her. HE DID THAT. Go back to chapter 1 Fred. These two cannot be the same person. It's incredible how much he's grown, and he's an idiot, but I love him so much.

Sorry for skipping a week, I spent 7 days in Croatia living on a boat. With my crazy ass family. DID I MENTION ON A FUCKIN' BOAT? You cannot escape each other on that thing! While the country was beautiful, I literally wanted to fling myself off the boat 99% of the time, but I survived, just for you guys. :D

Also: somehow, this Fred II/OC fic has hit the 200 mark. SERIOUSLY, OVER 200 REVIEWS. FOR FRED ACTING LIKE AN IDIOT A MAJORITY OF THE TIME. Apparently, y'all love Fremma as much as I do, and I fucking love all of you so much. I'm crying over it, omg.

Thank you. Thank you so much. I love you!

\- Moon. xoxo


	21. That one time I got real

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 21: That one time I got real.

When I woke, I felt like my head was being used as a Bludger. Dear god, I'm dying!

"Nnngggnnn …" I groaned, rolling over.

"Oh, hey."

I opened an eye warily. I was still crumpled up in a heap on Emma's sofa, soft sunlight now shining behind the curtains. Emma was casually lounging sideways across her armchair, eating toast and watching what looked like the news on TV. The Yoda onesie was currently tied around her waist so that it looked like she was wearing fuzzy green trousers, along with a white tank top. Shit. I'd seen Emma at her best and worst. I'd seen her looking like a bloody model at the Cursebreaker gala we'd been forced to dance at, and I'd seen her first thing in the morning just like this. She was still hot. She was always hot. Fuck, I loved her.

OHHHHH NO.

"I think it's coming back to me," I moaned.

"Uh-huh," Emma shot me a frosty look. "For the record, I hope it hurts."

"Cheers," I muttered, reluctantly hauling myself upright and wincing. "At this point, everything hurts and nothing is ok."

"I think you just described our relationship in one sentence."

I glanced over at her. "I need coffee."

She gestured vaguely to the kitchen, eyes determinedly not leaving the TV. "Go nuts."

"I actually mean coffee, not the flavoured water that you drink."

"I actually mean coffee as well," Emma threw back. "The amount of times you've crashed here, do you really think I still don't have coffee somewhere?"

That took me aback. She could act so distant and yet still have bloody coffee in her shelves simply because I drank it, just like I had tea at my place. By the time I had a steaming mug in my hands, my head was all but splitting open and Emma looked like she was about to transform into a demon and devour my soul at any second.

Merlin, this has been a right cock up.

"I'm sorry," I began, unable to look at her.

"You bet your fucking arse you are."

She almost made me smile. "I always meant to owl you back … I just …"

"If you meant to owl me back, you would have," Emma shot. "Don't screw with me, Fred."

"Ok, fine, I was ignoring you and I am so sorry," I told her. "I should've just said that I needed space away from you rather than leaving you in the dark."

"It wasn't fair, Fred."

"No, it wasn't," I hated how disgusted I felt with myself. I hardly ever regretted anything in my life! Even totally bad decisions I always figured had a little merit in at least teaching me something. Like the time I tried these brownies laced with a hallucinogenic potion at a party when I was 18 ("Oh my god, James! _Jaaaaames_! Have you ever considered the evolution of the Spotted Screwt? WHOA, IS ROSIE'S HEAD ON FIRE?") … lesson learned, don't do drugs, Clara. But despite the massive fuck up that that night had been, I still didn't regret it. It was just life, experience, something I'd done in the end and learned from.

But I regretted acting like such a wanker to Emma.

"Look," I gripped my mug tightly and finally looked up at her. She was watching the TV like it wasn't even there. "I know I said some things last night. I can't remember a lot of the specifics, but I know I yelled a lot … I was very drunk and … considering how I've treated you recently, I know it wasn't fair."

"Obviously," Emma said, though her tone was slightly gentler now. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Either way, I felt her turn to look at me and finally asked, "What exactly do you remember?"

Oh god.

The ball was in her court now, right? I'd said everything that I needed to say, did I really need to rehash the embarrassment of me rambling about how much I loved her before throwing up in the kitchen sink?

Because of course I remembered it. _Of course_ I remembered every fucking second of last night. It gets blurry around the edges, but I wasn't about to forget something like that! My mouth opened and closed for a few panicked moments as I tried to come up with something to tell her. Like, I know it hadn't been my finest hour. I KNOW I was a fuckhead and that I'd treated Emma like shit recently, but honestly … just the fact that I said it was enough, right?

Like, I said it. I SAID IT! Never in a million years did I think that I actually would! Sure, it took a lot of alcohol and a lot of yelling and I did it in probably the worst way possible, but still – I SAID IT. I felt lighter already! This was exactly what I'd needed, at the risk of admitting that my sister may have been right ( _shhhh, we don't mention it_ ). I'd finally just said it, and now I could get past it. It was out. I wasn't hiding anything anymore. Emma knew everything and now, she could do with it whatever she wanted. She was in charge, here …

I eventually managed to shrug, keeping my eyes on the floor. "Not much, really."

There. Come on, Emma, let's move on from this.

She tucked her legs underneath her and fidgeted with the buttons on her onesie. Neither of us said anything for a long moment and I'll admit that I was a little scared of what I would see if I looked up again. MAYBE a tiny voice in my head (that sounded suspiciously like Libby) was saying that I should have just told her the truth, but I wasn't about to do anything that she didn't want, and I had no idea what was going on in her head. At least now Emma could pretend along with me and everything could just go back to normal! We could eventually be ok … though, of course, a small part of me wondered if she was about five seconds away from confronting me. I still had no idea what I wanted to happen if she went in _that_ direction …

She was still silent, so I drank my coffee to stop my hands from shaking. Then, with no warning, she spoke up.

"I think I'm sort of seeing someone."

I looked up so quickly that something snapped painfully in my neck. I swore, rubbing it as I stared at her. I'd been avoiding glancing up for this exact reason, because it stabbed at me when I realised that she STILL wasn't quite meeting my eyes. We couldn't even look at each other, now! DAMNIT, exactly how badly did I screw this up?!

"It was Sarah's birthday a few weeks ago and I went out to dinner with her and a bunch of mates–" Emma said.

"You don't have to explain," I tried to say.

"–I end up sitting next to a friend of her husband's," Emma carried on firmly despite my words, her voice quiet and steady. "and I'll have you know, I'm startin' to get pretty damn good at flirting now. We've hung out several times since then. And he's not a douchebag, at least so far. I think it could maybe go somewhere …"

For a second, it seemed unfathomable that all this could even be true. How I could NOT know a single thing about it? Like, mate, this is Emma, so WHO THE HELL WAS THIS FUCKER? But then again, who's fault was it that I hadn't spoken to her at all since February? It was more than just plausible, it was the most obvious answer. I still remembered her at that ice skating rink where I'd accidentally seen her on a date. She had laughed nervously but looked amazing and _of course_. Of course that was going somewhere. Why wouldn't it, who wouldn't want her?

So, fine. I had two options, here. Option 1: make like a jealous arsehole, storm out and never talk to her again (had its merits, seemed a bit dickheadish when I was trying to avoid such a thing, would probably be better in the long run).

… or Option 2: tease her like normal and carry on like absolutely nothing happened (would have to listen to future stories about said bloke, would maybe still get to be her friend, absolutely terrible idea).

"Woooo, so I've missed a lot!" I cracked the widest grin I could muster. "Emma's got it goin' _awwwwn_. What's his name? Can I run a background check on him? OHHHH, NO," I added as Emma gave an exasperated groan, hiding a small smile. "Don't have to. You can see it in his eyes whether he's a serial killer or not. Trust me, I'm an expert …"

* * *

"Oh, HELL TO THE NO," Sapphire exclaimed.

"Oh, hell to the yes," I countered.

"But there's no way," she said, her elbow linked with mine as we walked down the road, heading in the direction of the Museum of London Docklands together. "There is no goddamned way that you left it like that! You can't just pretend that shit didn't happen!"

"I can and I did," I snorted.

"BUT YOU SAID I LOVE YOU!" Sapphire cried.

"I am well aware of that fact and I'm currently trying to forget it," I said, a hint of irritation creeping in now.

"Are you nuts?" Sapphire asked me. Her pretentious scarf was hitting me in the face and I was starting to forever regret the day I had somehow let Sapphire Bates become something of an actual friend. "Legit let me know, 'cause I do worry sometimes."

"What did you expect?" I scowled at her.

"Not for you to fucking ignore the entire thing!" Sapphire groaned. "Shit, you've been ignoring that girl for over a month! I'd be bloody pissed myself to begin with, and then when you tell her that you love her – which, by the way, I'm still reserving judgement on whether it happened – she turns around and tells you that she's seeing someone else? And you make like NOTHING HAPPENED?"

"Yep," I shrugged.

"UGH!" Sapphire banged her head against my shoulder a moment. "You are killing me, Fred, you really are."

"Well, what did you want me to do, Saph?" I shot back. "Never see her again? What?"

"I wanted you to get over your bloody selves and snog already!" Sapphire said furiously.

" _She's going out with someone else_ –"

"For god's sake!" Sapphire burst out. "After everything you two have been through, you seriously cannot pretend nothing happened, here! You can't pretend everything's ok, because it's not. You been crushed by this entire fiasco, don't lie to me, it's written all over your bloody face. She probably has too, 'cause she wants nothing more than to be mad at you and then you go and say things like that! I mean, damn it Fred, didn't you think at all?"

"Hey, I thought it through!" I said. "I'm a rational adult!"

Sapphire snorted so loudly that the people in front of us in the street actually turned around.

"Honey, PLEASE," she said.

"Really!" I insisted. "I left it up to her! I told her that I didn't remember anything, so she knows I'm lying and she could have confronted me and said that I'm full of shit if she wanted. But instead, she turns around and tells me about fucking Date Number 156, so what the hell else am I supposed to say in response?"

"You could've fought for it," Sapphire said firmly. "You could have told her the truth, you could have told her you want to give a relationship a go–"

"But I don't want to!"

" _You're in love with the girl!_ " Sapphire said, exasperatedly.

"Yeah, and what I'd like best is to just forget all about it!" I scowled back. "Look, Sapphire, I don't regret telling her. I wanted to. Needed to, even, because I never wanted any of this! I just wanted a good time and I ended up with things getting way too complicated and painful. I literally tried everything else to get over her, so this was, and is, my last shot to move on from this. You really don't need to tell me that I'm crushed by it, though, because I already know that and it's the reason I'm currently trying to block out the memory so that I don't snap and fucking kill something!"

Sapphire glanced at me then as our actual destination for that morning finally came into view.

"Fred," she said quietly. "Ok, I get you. It was emotionally cleansing or whatever shit you want to call it. But at the end of the day, someone rejected you. No matter what … it's ok to feel sad about that."

Oh god, here we go.

"I'm not _sad_ ," I burst out. "So leave it the hell alone. In the meantime – WHY MORNING, GOOD SIR!" I added in a yell to none other than Head Auror Donald Huntley.

Huntley turned at the mouth of the alleyway, apparently with an already predetermined 'not amused' look on his face. "Weasley, Bates," he said through gritted teeth. "Why does this not surprise me?"

"We heard a body dropped," I told him cheerfully. "Just here to lend a hand!"

"Yeah, you stick even a finger over that tape and you'll _lose a hand_ ," Huntley glared.

"Aw, come on!" Sapphire, thank the lord, was dropping the topic of conversation for now. We were officially on the same side once again as she tag-teamed with me, "Think of us as consults. We're consulting!"

"Don't you two have jobs or something?"

"I tracked a guy all the way to Wales so that I could be here," Sapphire answered proudly.

"Yeah, I fobbed my case off onto Danielle," I admitted.

"You're real dedicated, huh?" he said flatly.

"Oh, go on Huntley!" I whined, trying to peer past the Head Auror's giant bulk and into the alleyway between two buildings in Canary Warf, which was now apparently a crime scene. The natural group of gawking bystanders was starting to form around us now, the Magical Law Enforcement Officers looking like normal police men to the Muggles. I knew that Yael, Kayla and their team were in there somewhere, looking the part of detectives, and I struggled to try and catch one of their eyes so that we could get let past Mr Killjoy here. Admittedly, we weren't even supposed to know about the body, only Sapphire and I _may_ have conspired to convince Auror Liam Bolton to give us a call if something to do with the Reddale case came up. The young Auror who worked closely with Yael and Kayla had been only more than happy to help out. Crashing the scene I know doesn't exactly sound like a smart idea, but it did come as a perfectly good distraction from the rest of my Emmatastic life, and it was either this or try and track Reddale down ourselves and I dunno 'bout you lot, but I like being alive!

(Also, I'm not that STUPID).

But apparently Huntley had other ideas.

"Kindly remove yourselves from this very active crime scene, or I will be forced to remove you myself," Huntley snapped.

"Fine, fine," I said. "but let it be known that if Reddale gets away with this, then it'll be on you!"

"I'll take my chances," Huntley deadpanned.

We waited a moment, frozen to the spot. Huntley didn't budge.

"PLEEEEEASE!" Sapphire and I both burst into abject begging because apparently, we weren't above that. Thankfully, Yael noticed us before we had to get on our knees.

"Fred, Sapphire!" he yelled, hurrying over to us. "What're you guys doing here?"

"We want to help!" I called out to him.

"They are banned from this crime scene!" Huntley burst out over top of me. "Auror Ingleson, they are to go nowhere near this case!"

"It's really him though," I asked Yael. "Isn't it?"

Yael didn't even need to confirm. It was clear behind his tired dark eyes and the fact that he still hadn't shaved his beard yet. Kayla, over by the body several feet away down the alley, heard our voices and glanced up, looking just as haggard. It was literally just them working this, and it had to be eating at them. It had taken them five years to catch the bastard, only for him to escape right from under them. They had a score to settle, and they needed help. I wanted to help. Not only did he hurt me, but he could have hurt my family in that escape attempt. He was hurting innocent people, and he was hurting my mates, because damnit, Yael and Kayla were my friends!

"Liam called us," I admitted to him.

"Sir," Yael pleaded to Huntley. "Agent Weasley's connected to this case, you know that this could be the start of a revenge spree. If anything, he needs to be brought in and questioned about his safety. Let him consult and it could really benefit the investigation. Also, Agent Bates," he glanced at her and I felt Sapphire nod to show her willingness to help. "she has resources. Connections out in the field … we could use her."

Yael gave us a tentative smile, and we grinned back. Huntley glanced between us all, still about as furious as he could get, but he was definitely weighing up his options. Give it ten seconds, nine, eight …

" _Fine_ ," he snapped. "Both of you go back to the Auror Office. Agent Bates, work with Auror Bolton, start using those 'connections' of yours. Weasley, assist until Ingleson and Grover come back and can take your statement. This had better help solve this bitch of a case," he muttered, walking away and completely ignoring our outraged faces.

"Ugh, back to the Auror Office?" Sapphire complained. "Who does he think we are?"

"You wanted to help," Yael shrugged. "You're in, at least."

"Yeah, banished to the Auror Office, sharing a desk with bloody Liam Bolton," she whined. "You could've fought for us!"

"Excuse me, I did!" Yael said defensively. "Jesus, did I not just get you access to this case in the first place? If it weren't for me, you would have been escorted off the premises and become another one of those creepsters out in the crowd who get off on crime scenes! And here I thought thanks were in order," He added in a scowl, folding his arms across his chest. Yael was often such a gentle soul that I forgot that he even had it in him to stand up for himself like that. Sapphire sighed and was forced to concede with a small,

"Thank you."

"I should think so!" Yael said with a nod. "Go, I'll see you guys both back at the office."

"… aren't you pissed that we don't even get to see the body?" Sapphire dug at me as we were forced to turn around.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were happy to see such a thing," I said.

"Who doesn't want to see a dead body?"

"Plenty of people who aren't budding psychopaths."

"Hey, I passed my psych eval," Sapphire shrugged. "Seriously, you're not even a little annoyed?"

"Whatever," I shrugged. "I just want to help catch him. Besides, I'm not gonna get to use Huntley as a reference if I keep screwing him around, am I?"

"You're seriously still doing the Auror thing after all this?" Sapphire asked me.

"I'm slowly working through the application," I answered. "I guess we'll see where it takes me."

* * *

I normally hated getting into the Ministry of Magic. We were technically government employed, but since our records were connected through the National Magical Insurance Company, rather than the Ministry directly, we were always forced through the ridiculous hassle of the visitors entrance, signing in and registering our wands every time. Sapphire was grumbling under her breath by the time we reached the Auror Office up on level two. Liam Bolton was the Control Auror assigned to Yael and Kayla. His job was to typically work from the office directly, researching, organising warrants and sending prank memos or whatever. He was all right, if a bit enthusiastic. Definitely one of those people you can handle for all but five minutes before you either walk away, or suddenly have the desire to off yourself. Thankfully, right when I was starting to feel murderous ("Agent Weasley, Agent Weasley, take a look at these canvas reports that are starting to come in–!") somebody came and visited.

Someone I knew rather well.

"HEAD AUROR POTTER!" I thought Liam was going to die on the spot. He nearly fell out of his chair at the investigation table in the Homicide bullpen. Head Auror Potter – always my dear Uncle Harry – grabbed Liam's arm hastily and kept him in his seat.

"Whoa there!" Harry exclaimed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you–"

"What are you doing here? NO, I'm sorry, that was rude," Liam forced a grin and elbowed Sapphire in the gut for no apparent reason. "I mean – uh–"

"Don't worry, I'm just here for my nephew," Harry let go of Liam, apparently assured that he wasn't going to be doing anymore acrobatics onto the floor. I glanced up in confusion.

"'sup?" I asked.

"C'mon, Huntley told me that you'd worked yourself into this investigation," Harry jerked his head. "I want to talk to you."

Oh shit. Out of all of my insane relatives, none of them ever really scared me (how could they? Uncle Ron tried growing a beard for about 4 days before he gave up, and Auntie Fleur still gets hit on by teenagers, for crying out loud) but for some reason … my uncle Harry got to me. I know I spent my days in History of Magic snogging Cindy, but even I knew how he killed some crazy psycho murderer when he was like 17. You want a definition of 'BADASS' then look no further than Harry Fucking Potter, Ladies and Gentlemen! I trailed along next to him as he led the way through the winding corridors and bullpens of the Auror Office. Eventually, at the back of the space, we entered a corridor spaced with large offices, the names all high-up ranks; I spotted _Head Auror Donald Huntley: Homicide Division_ on one door. Harry waved a friendly hello to his receptionist as he opened his own office door and motioned for me to come inside.

"Soooo …" I warbled, shoving my hands in my pockets. "I take it we're not talkin' about Grandma's new Cajun chicken recipe?"

"You know, I think the last time I had to speak this seriously to you, it was because you and James forcefully cut off Lily's hair when you were ten," Harry mused, walking over to his desk. "I have to ask, because I never got it out of you guys back then, but whose idea was it?"

"James, but he'll deny it," I answered. "He was mad because she wanted to play with Rosie instead of us."

"What did you want to play with Lily for?"

"We were partners in crime!" I reminded him. "We needed a villain for our game. Lily wasn't interested, so we got payback! … sorry," I tacked on the end there.

Harry snorted softly before gesturing at one of the chairs facing his desk. I tentatively sat down in one, figuring I knew everything Harry wanted to talk about, but not really sure if I was ready to tackle it. Harry didn't sit behind his desk like I thought he would, but instead simply took the other comfy chair so that he could sit next to me.

"Fred, you kill me sometimes," Harry began with a sigh.

"I know."

"Look, I get that you want to help on this case. I wish I could as well, but I have an entire office to run. Not to mention that you have your own job to do. I would never be able to face George or Angelina again if something ever happened to you–"

"But I don't want to do my usual job anymore!" I burst out.

"Yes, Auror Huntley told me about you potentially applying for the next training year," Harry was smiling now, at least. "Honestly, I think it's a great idea."

"Get out," I snorted.

"No, really," Harry nodded. "You would make a brilliant Auror, Fred! Truly, you would, your personality and skills match the level of quality needed for this kind of work. But I'm concerned about you consulting on this case. Especially since it's already high-profile and you're already connected. You're my family and I've got to look out for my family–"

"Aw, c'mon Uncle Harry," I threw back at him with a smirk. "Don't get all soft on me!"

"I'm not going soft," Harry rolled his eyes. "And before you start, don't you dare use Clara against me!"

"Ok, fine," I said. "but you did say that I would make a great Auror, did you not?"

"Once you have been through training," Harry said exasperatedly. "For Merlin's sake, you haven't even had your first interview yet! This isn't the same as catching bail jumpers–"

"I know that!" I said. "I'm not asking to go out into the field, I'm not asking to do much of anything, really. I just … wanna help where I can."

Harry watched me a moment. "Wow," he prodded. "I haven't seen your 'grumpy face' in a long time."

"This isn't my grumpy face!" I cried.

"Uh-huh," Harry grinned. "Grumpy face returns! Oh, I'll have to tell Ange–"

"Shut up," I complained.

"Hey, you and James had the exact same 'grumpy face' growing up, I don't think I'll ever forget it," Harry snorted. "Well, actually, you were always the grumpy one, James was normally grinning if you ever got in trouble. You guys certainly never failed to amuse me, although you did give us heart attacks every now and then. Go on, what's got you all cranky?"

"Nothing! If anything it's you! Jesus, Uncle Harry …"

"Oh, quit with the dramatics," Harry said. "There's something else bothering you, so say it and maybe I'll let you give your statement at the very least," I glanced up at that to see my uncle still sitting there with his greying hair and dorky glasses. That's when I remembered that underneath all that shit of going through a war or whatever … he did get married at the end of the day. Hell, he has a granddaughter now! He gets all that romance shit, right?

Maybe I _could_ talk to him.

"My life is Emmatastic," I ended up grumbling.

Harry blinked.

"Damn," he said. "Didn't expect that one."

"Oh, whatever, I'm not doing this," I scowled, making to get out of my chair, but Harry made a funny protesting sound before yanking me back.

"Yes, you are!" he said. "Now, who is–?"

"Don't pretend you haven't heard who Emma is, I swear it's gone round the whole family," I scoffed.

"Fine. So tell me about her," Harry asked.

I shrugged. "There's nothin'. She's my friend … fuck, I don't know," I refused to look at him as I growled out, "Ok, look … I fell for her and maybe she totally rejected me in response. But I'm fine, it's fine!"

"Hmm. This might sound like a stupid question," Harry mentioned lightly. "But did you actually tell her how you felt? Because if I know you at all, you just flirted with every other person you could find in front of her until she got annoyed and told you to stop."

"Sod off, I told her I loved her," I grumbled, glancing away.

Harry stared at me for a moment.

"Holy shit," he said.

I know, I know, woooo look at all-grown-up Fred! Well fuck you, _I don't care_. I didn't care that a year ago, Harry's version might've been the truth. I didn't care that it said a bloody lot that I could have even told Emma that in the first place, despite the fact that I was also drunk, throwing up and pretended nothing happened the next morning. Say what you want about _precious baby Fred, look how far you've come_ because I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK, OK?

I nearly said that to Uncle Harry, but thought better of it. "Don't even start," I thundered instead as Harry opened his mouth.

"I'm not–"

" _I said don't even_!"

"Fred, shut up," Harry cut in, making me look back at him. "If there's one thing I get, it's love. Everyone says it's beautiful and easy and yeah, a lot of the time it is. But I can tell you what I'm sure you've already figured out, and that's that sometimes, it's just bloody terrible. I'm sorry that you've had to go through that. Rejection sucks."

"Yeah, how would you know?" I grumbled. "You're like, _ancient_."

"Hey," Harry smirked. "I've been around, I wasn't born 40!"

"Aren't you 51?"

"Fine, forty five then," Harry said. "Look, even I've been rejected before."

"Get out. Since when?"

"Multiple times!" Harry told me. "When I was 14, I asked out the girl I liked and she literally turned me down for someone else! Even when I was 17, your aunt Ginny damn near killed me. It was about a week after the second war ended and I told her that I still wanted to be with her. She shut me down completely before punching me in the gut. Hurt like a bitch, too," he remembered fondly.

"There is no way," I snorted.

"You better believe it, 'cause it's true," Harry insisted. "She was still a bit pissed off at me. We'd been through a lot and it took a several months for her to deal with everything. We eventually figured things out … but that rejection still stung. I know, it hurts. Emma didn't punch you as well, right?"

"Felt like it," I muttered.

Harry sighed. "Look, just do what you need to do. Cry. Burn photos of her. Be sad and hang out with James. Just don't be an arsehole about it and you'll be fine"

"I'm not sad!" I said.

"Uh-huh," Harry nodded. "Sure, sure. Please don't destroy anything belonging to her, that's technically vandalism and I'd have to arrest you for property damage – oh, hang on," Harry apparently received an intercom call in his ear, as he paused to listen. "Aurors Ingleson and Grover are back in the office requesting you. Hang on, Fred!" Harry's call stopped me in my tracks as I had immediately wrenched myself out of my seat. I turned and glanced back at him in exasperation only for him to say,

"I'm proud of you."

Goddamn it, Uncle Harry.

* * *

"What did Head Auror Potter want?" Kayla asked me once I arrived back at the Homicide Division.

"Uncle Harry things," I answered. "So c'mon guys! What's the dealio with this case?"

Kayla groaned in answer to that, flopping down into a chair at their investigation table in the bullpen. The table top certainly looked like they'd been occupying it for quite some time. Sapphire was apparently still assisting Liam against her better judgement, but Yael was slapping up yet another crime scene photo to the already full whiteboard full of case notes, timelines and victims. He turned back to the table and noticed his partner warily slumped over it, head in her arms.

"Victim's name was Henry McGale," Yael said, moving over and resting a comforting hand on Kayla's back. He rubbed gently as he added, "He was Reddale's lawyer."

"So it IS a revenge spree!" I said.

"We don't know that," Kayla said quickly, glancing up and dislodging Yael's hand from her.

"Oh, come on Kayla," Yael threw back at her, hands on his hips now. "Of course it is. That's how he plays it, he never kills for sport. He always puts thought behind it, you know that. McGale failed to keep him out of a prison sentence, so he went first. I knew it was only a matter of time before more bodies started showing up," he added bitterly.

"Hey," Kayla said softly. "We talked about this. It isn't our fault."

"I know," Yael bit back. "but it sure does feel like it."

"Guy's a freak, we didn't know he'd pull a fast one," I said. "Now, didn't you guys have some questions you wanted to ask me or something?"

"Fred, you testified against Reddale," Kayla nodded. "We've put in requests for anyone who was involved in this trial to come into the Auror Office, but unfortunately, it was a lot of people. Barely half of them have responded and we need to determine who he's going to target next."

"Well, he hasn't come after me, so I think I'm good!" I shrugged.

"Mate," Yael moved to come sit next to Kayla opposite me at the cluttered table. "Take this seriously. Have you ever felt unsafe or uncomfortable around anyone since Reddale escaped?"

"Nope."

"Have you noticed any new people in your life?" Yael added. "Could be anything, like a new guy who always comes in for coffee the same time as you, or someone who works in your building?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Have the people close to you ever mentioned anything about feeling unsafe or uncomfortable?"

My thoughts immediately jumped to Emma. To James and Libby and baby Clara. There were actually a lot of people in my life that I suddenly realised that this could affect and I wanted to continue being so blasé about it, but … I couldn't this time. "No, not from what I can remember," I answered, honestly. "I haven't noticed any weird people hanging around, nothing strange has happened – I'm a bloody wizard, I know how to protect my place from creepers."

"I'm glad, although I'm still considering a protective detail–"

"Aw, c'mon Yael!" I scoffed. "Like you said, there's too many people connected to this case to protect them all. I was only questioned for like ten minutes in that trial! I was barely involved. I doubt he even remembers me."

"We can't make a ruling based on that," Yael said exasperatedly, glancing back behind him at the whiteboard. But he had to admit, I had some fair points and he eventually conceded, "Fine! No detail. But you see or hear _anything_ , you tell us straight away. Deal?"

"Deal," I reached out and shook his hand. "So what do we do now?"

"Solve the murder," Kayla shrugged.

"But you know who did it," I said.

"We're getting too caught up in who this is," Kayla said to her partner. "If it was just a regular homicide and we'd just found out the identity of the killer, what would we do next?"

Yael frowned at her, but he answered, "Hunt them down."

"Exactly!" Kayla smiled. "We do the exact same and we'll get him! We know his last listed address is fake already, but he's had other hideouts all over the city. Sapphire's got contacts out there. Fred, what about you?"

"I've got a few who get around," I said. "Want me to message them?"

"Perfect – Yael, we should go see Healer Miles at the morgue, she probably has her report by now."

We all split ways once we caught up with Liam and Sapphire. After exchanging notes and plans, Yael and Kayla made to leave to head over to the morgue while Sapphire was heading out to meet up with a contact and I needed to use the intercom system to anonymously contact my own guys out there. But before we all split up, Yael grabbed my arm.

"Hey," he said, tired eyes on mine. "Thanks, mate."

"It's fine, whatever," I shrugged.

"Nah, I mean it," Yael insisted. "Both of you," he added, glancing back at Sapphire. "This means a lot."

"Shut up, pansy," Sapphire punched him on the arm. "You and your girl go catch this freak."

Yael just grinned as we all headed out, which was nice to see at any rate. See, it wasn't a bad thing to accept help sometimes. It turned into a long day of meeting up with the random people out in the field that I had developed working relationships with over the years. A couple of them I hadn't contacted in a while, and I maaaay or may not have gotten an automatic leg-locker curse from one of them (totally didn't deserve it, I swear!) so I didn't have high hopes, but if one of them did miraculously pay off in tracking down Reddale, then I'd be happy.

"Hey! DUDE, it was years ago, can't you let it go?" I cried, falling and hitting the front steps of Sam Morena's small attached house. The Auror did nothing to help me, but laughed good-naturedly at my arrival on his doorstep.

"You nearly let my suspect get away!" he reminded me.

"Key word _nearly_ ," I pointed out. "Mate, let it go!"

Morena rolled his eyes and lifted the curse around my legs. I dragged myself to my feet with a petulant look, but Morena was one of the good guys. He worked out of the Bedfordshire County Auror Office in a small town of Biggleswade, not far from the town where I had grown up, actually. We'd crossed paths occasionally and I often called on his help if anyone I was chasing ended up in his area, usually if they were fleeing London to the north. I hadn't seen him in a while though, and the last time we'd met there had been a slight skirmish over an assault suspect that I'd been after for an entirely different crime. He held out a hand at least and helped haul me up his front steps.

"So what can I do for you, Agent Weasley?" Morena asked in amusement.

"I'm consulting on a homicide case for the Aurors," I explained. "Sorry to barge in at home."

"Aw, mate, you're fine," Morena waved a hand. "We all know I have no life outside of work, 'side from the missus."

"How is Michelle?"

" _She's wonderful, thanks for asking!_ " a disembodied woman's voice yelled from inside the house, followed immediately by the shrieking of two teenagers in the background.

Morena winced and stepped outside onto his front steps with me, shutting the door behind him. "Sorry," he said. "So what do you need to know?"

"You hear about the Reddale Killer?"

"Jesus, you're here about him?" Morena's eyes went wide. "I dunno how much I can help, Agent Weasley. Doesn't he normally stick to London? I've never heard of him coming this far into the Midlands."

"I know, don't worry," I sighed. "I'm just helping out, contacting everyone I know, putting out feelers, that kind of thing. Asking you to spread the word around. I mean, someone somewhere must've seen something, right?"

"Well, I can't think of anything personally," Morena said soberly. "Don't get much homicide 'round here, to be honest. Only connection I really have is with old Smithy – he knew Reddale before he was Reddale, remember? You guys got him to come in and give a character statement. Was he ever part of the trial?"

"Not from what I can recall, and I testified," I frowned. "Who's Smithy again?"

"Old fellow, retired now I think," Morena said. "Kyle Smith, used to be a builder. We were next door neighbours when he first moved out here from London?"

"I'll talk to him next. Thanks, Morena!" I said. "I'll uh, let you get back to family dinner or whatever the hell's going on in there."

"Yeah," Morena cringed as he tentatively opened his front door, and the shouting of his family could be heard ringing out once more. "I think it's world war three, more like!"

This was the boring part of law enforcement. The walking and talking, but it was potentially the most important. I was kind of disappointed that it wasn't non-stop action, but to be fair, I probably wouldn't even survive if it was! It's what had gotten me into trouble with Reddale in the first place, wasn't it? I got too bored, too cocky and tried to jump the gun? But then again, while talking to Morena hadn't raised any red flags, arriving at Smithy's place certainly did.

For starters, it was empty. Normally a non-issue, I'd just wait – I was very good at waiting! But when I tested Smithy's magical defences around his home, I realised that all of them were down, which wasn't normal. I immediately touched the intercom in my ear and called the Auror Office.

"Auror Ingleson, Auror Ingleson? Yael, mate, it's Fred!" I began once the receptionist had attempted to put me through. "Jesus – do these things even work this far apart–?"

" _Fred, it's Yael, I can hear you – uh, barely_ ," Yael's voice answered. It was rough and kept cutting out every second word, but he was there. " _What's up?_ "

"I'm in Bedfordshire, I've been talking to some people I know up here and one of 'em reminded me to check up on Kyle Smith – do you remember him?"

" _Shit, yeah – he was the closest thing we could get to Reddale's family, I think they lived near each other – why, what's wrong?_ "

"The wards around his house are down and he's not answering the door."

" _We're coming now_."

Sure enough, Yael and Kayla were onsite in less than two minutes. I'm about 99% sure that it wasn't an approved Apparition, but we could deal with that later. I quickly explained the dimensions of the small house that looked the same as literally every other house down this residential street, and I agreed to cover the back door while the partners went in the front. I won't lie, despite the seriousness it was almost exciting! It reminded me of the action side, the part of being an Auror that was fun and adventurous. However, the positive attitude didn't last long. When I heard Yael and Kayla breach the front, I came in from the back, but I could tell that there was no need to be on the offensive almost within ten seconds of being inside. The smell was enough to tell me what I needed to know.

Sure enough, we found ol' Smithy in his lounge.

By the looks of things, he'd been dead for weeks.

* * *

It was a long day.

I almost thought Yael and Kayla were going to cry. At one point, I had to force them to step back a moment, take a break to breathe, because they were both clearly on the verge of breaking down. Like, I understood that it had to be draining, and the two of them really only had each other to rely on, so I was firm in shoving them both away for a moment. When I went to go find them about ten minutes later, they were still in the same place I'd left them, on the street corner outside Smithy's house, partially concealed by a large bush. They'd had their arms around each other tightly, foreheads pressed together as they quietly whispered. It looked so intimate that I had to simply turn around and walk away.

I ended up letting them come back in their own time.

I kept reaching out to contacts all afternoon. By the time I was making my way home, I was utterly exhausted and not at all prepared to find Emma waiting for me outside my front door. She was talking to Mrs Ramsey across the hall while also cuddling my neighbour's teacup Chihuahua in her arms.

"Aw, I agree Mrs Ramsey, there's nothing weird about this little thing," she was cooing to the teeny dog/rat/embodiment of the devil, but that was when she noticed me standing there, staring at her in disgust/amazement. "I mean … uh …"

"Oh, don't listen to anything that one says!" Mrs Ramsey accused, pushing her bedazzled glasses up her nose. "He kills any living creatures within days!"

"Fuck you, Mrs Ramsey. Having a nice day?"

"Fred, darlin', if you keep insisting on keeping one of them, then I'm glad it's this girl," Mrs Ramsey nodded at Emma. Otis started yapping then, and Emma hastily set him back on the floor, saying thank you and good afternoon to Mrs Ramsey. She glanced up at me tentatively.

"Hey," she said quietly.

"Sup," I said back.

"Do you mind me coming here?"

"Whaaaat? You're crazy, Princess, get your arse inside!" I plastered on a smile and guided her through my front door. "I've told you before not to converse with the local wildlife, but I should've known you were doomed to always ignore me."

Emma rolled her eyes, but she still came inside with me. I realised that my place wasn't exactly immaculate and organised like it usually was; the kitchen still held evidence of the amount of alcohol I'd drunk last night, what with the kitchen floor littered with empty bottles and the fact that I hadn't had time to clean anything between getting home and getting the call from Liam. I hastily swept my wand and banished them all to a box in the corner before boiling the kettle.

"So where've you been all day?" Emma asked me as she helped make our hot drinks of choice. "I called in earlier, but you weren't here."

"My dear Emma, I do have this thing called a job–"

"Uh-huh," she smirked.

"No, really!" I insisted, taking a large gulp of coffee as Emma took her tea with her back to my kitchen table. I joined her in the chair next to her, adding, "Seriously, I've been working! Reddale's been busy again."

"Shit, did he kill someone?" Emma asked, eyes wide.

"Two someones," I said, although I knew I was probably not supposed to mention that until it was publically announced. Whoops. Oh well, good thing I'm not an actual Auror yet. "and considering that one has been dead a while, there's really no telling how many more are even out there."

"Jesus. Is he gonna come after you?"

"Oh, nah," I shrugged. "He's killed a bazillion people, he hardly even knows I exist. There are way more important people than me who should be higher on his hit list."

"Don't just be sayin' that."

"I'm not! Blimey, Emma, stop looking at me like that! You don't get to look at me like that …" I grumbled into my coffee.

She stared hard at me for a moment then.

"Ok, I thought that we could get through this without talking about it, but apparently not. Fred–"

"Nope!" I cut over her hastily. "Nooooo, nope, you're right, we can totally get through this without talking about it! We're pros at not talking about serious shit, so why start now, amiright? Ha, ha …"

"Fred," she said cut in. "I ain't taking your shit anymore. Talk to me right now."

I stared at her a moment, meeting her gaze in a stand-off that I didn't know how to break. Her wild hair was plaited against her head, stray wisps and strands sticking out around her face. Her blue eyes were cutthroat and determined. This wasn't the girl who'd been hurt by a douchebag in the past. This was a girl who'd dealt with too many. The least I could do was harden the fuck up and talk to her.

"I need to not see you for a bit," It took a massive about of nerve to say, but I did. I don't know what was so difficult about admitting it. The only conclusion I could think of was that it showed how emotional I was getting, how much I obviously cared.

"There," Emma said. "Was that so difficult to say?"

"Yes, it was," I said bluntly. "So congratulations, you're the first person I've ever been this real with."

That seemed to strike her dumb for a moment. Her mouth opened, but she covered it up with a mouthful of tea. "Fred, the fact that you need space is fine," she said to her mug. "Honestly, it is. We all need space sometimes. But you can't just ignore me like you did. That is not how you treat a person, let alone a friend! You want space, you fucking tell me to my face, don't just ignore me and then come yelling at me. I get dealing with stuff, I've had to deal with stuff of my own in the past! But you don't get to treat me like that. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," I muttered.

"Good," Emma stood up straight then, taking a strong gulp of tea before slamming it back down onto my table. "In that case, I've said what I needed to say. For the record, I'm still not sure I've forgiven you yet, but I will. Hopefully. If I get to see you around maybe, so just let me know when you've stopped being an idiot, because I honestly would like to be your friend again–"

I lurched to my feet and suddenly hugged her fiercely.

I threw my arms around her waist, tugging her tiny body off the floor and into my chest. This was ridiculous. I didn't want her to leave, I wanted to hang out like normal and be stupid together, even though I knew that it wouldn't help. If I wanted to get past this, it was gonna take some serious action! But I still wasn't quite ready for her to leave yet. She was startled, but wound her arms around my neck, apparently ok with hugging me back for a moment. I knew that my grip was probably uncomfortably tight. I knew that if she saw my face right now, she would know everything that I was thinking.

I knew. I didn't care.

I just held her.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"I know, Fred," she sighed.

"Seriously, Emma … I am so, so sorry."

She just nodded into my shoulder before I reluctantly let go and put her back down on the floor. I gave her a half-hearted grin before making some stupid teasing comment about her using all the teabags. She left with me promising to owl her sometime … after all, we had our shared birthdays coming up in four months, we had to plan that shit at some point right? The second I closed my door behind her, I glanced up at Ravi.

"Mate, I will TELL you when we're allowed to start owling her again," I warned. "In the meantime …"

* * *

"OH, FIRE, MAY YOUR ORANGE FLAMES BURN!" I cried dramatically. "RISE UP, UP–"

"Oh, Fred, what the HELL are we doing out here?" Libby yelled at me.

James and Libby were standing sceptically in the circle I had insisted upon, around the charcoal-stained brazier that was currently burning into the Spring air. Their Tiny Human was hastily being watched by their neighbour as I had turned up and dragged them out here. Sure, it was a blustery March evening out in James' building courtyard down the corridor from their flat, but this situation definitely called for dramatics. You can't half-arse this shit!

"I call upon your guidance in purging the bad memories of one Emma Terry from my brain!" I announced, raising my arms to the sky.

"Yeeeeeah …" James said. "Isn't burning her stuff a tad overboard?"

"Well, technically we're not burning her stuff, 'cause according to Uncle Harry that's property damage, and I can't have an arrest on my record if I want to be an Auror," I admitted. "Buuuut, turns out that in my emotional breakdown I drank a lot of alcohol and I've got a lot of empty bottles to get rid of. So, in leiu of the sacrificial burning of Emma's things, we're instead going to smash these!"

"… glass bottles?" Libby raised an eyebrow.

"Work with me here!" I cried.

"This isn't exactly how I pictured my first array into vandalism."

"First?" Libby shot James an amused look.

"Come on," I handed each of them a bottle from the cardboard box that I'd collected all the glass in before I'd come here. "Isn't there something you want to smash from your life? Something that's holding you back, something that you just want to let go of?"

James and Libby looked at each other.

"I know I'd very much like to forget the fact that I've barely slept in five months," Libby said.

"Perfect!" I said. "Go on then. Smash it, throw it, hex it, do whatever you want!"

Libby rolled her eyes at me, and I heard her mutter, "I really must be out of my mind …" When she turned around, however, I saw the flames from the brazier burning in her gaze. Poor girl must have barely slept not just from Clara waking her up, but from agonising over the pressures of being a mother. It was a tough job, probably one of the toughest, if anything I'd observed so far seemed to be an indicator. I couldn't be sure what Libby was going to do, but she took a deep breath … then hurled the bottle into the courtyard wall. It smashed into several pieces, glass chunks spinning across the ground.

I cheered with her as Libby whooped, throwing up her arms and turning to face us.

"Oh, yeah!" she grinned. "That makes me feel better!"

"This is insane," James shook his head. "Let me have a go!"

He took the bottle that Libby had handed to him and thought for a moment. I knew that James had several things he still felt insecure about as well. The lack of time spent with his daughter compared to her mother, the feeling that Clara liked Libby more than him, the guilt … James gritted his teeth before throwing his bottle hard. He laughed as the tinkling of broken glass died away and Libby flung her arms casually around his waist as he cried,

"You're right, this is great! Fred, you go!" He wrapped an arm around Libby's shoulders, squeezing her tightly.

I stepped up to the plate this time, picking up a bottle in my hands. A bottle that I'd drank trying to forget about Emma. Thing is, I didn't want to forget about her anymore. After everything that had happened today … if there was one thing I'd been reminded of, it was that life was short. Ol' Smithy had literally done nothing except know the wrong person, and he'd paid dearly for it. I had no idea when my life would end and after everything that had happened since I'd woken up on her sofa this morning, I just knew that I wasn't getting over Emma. It was never gonna happen, and I was SO DONE with trying and nothing ever working. I was tired and quite honestly, I didn't want to keep doing it.

What I wanted was Emma.

I mean, I was at the point where I was never going to NOT want her anymore, right? I was attracted to her when we first met, I liked her when we were sleeping together, I adored her when we were friends and now, I loved her. It was ALWAYS gonna be Emma. I was sick of pretending that it wasn't so yeah, _I wanted her badly_. I wanted her so much that it scared me, so THAT, my friends, is going to be my new mission! I'm not gonna be scared. I'm not going to try and get over her anymore.

I'm going to be ok with loving her.

Everything could be so easy if I just wasn't so damn afraid! Literally everything came back to that, right? Me, terrified of her loving me, of myself for loving her, because how do I do this? How do I let someone love me like that? She would know me, she would know all of me in ways that no one else ever had before, _and it was truly scary_. But if it was going to happen, I first needed to get over myself. I didn't know exactly what I wanted out of this, whether I wanted something that looked traditionally like a relationship or something else entirely, but all I knew was that Emma was my best friend, and Emma was also the best sex I'd ever had. I wanted both those parts. I wanted all of her! I wanted her wrapped around me and in me and moving over me as I tangled my fingers in her wild hair. I wanted to laugh at her Yoda onesie and tease her about liking tea every second of every day. The thought of all this sent pure fear into my brain, and hell, after everything I'd put her through, she might not ever want it herself or in return again. But I don't care. No matter what, I swear, _I'm going to be ok with it_.

And it started now.

"Welp, it's been real, Old Me," I said. "You've served me well in the past, buuuut it's time to go. See you in hell!"

James and Libby cheered as I hurled the bottle into the wall.

 _Smash_.

I turned back and laughed with them.

* * *

A/N: gUYS. GUYS. _GUYS_. Like, what the fuck happened, I thought I'd clicked on the wrong story or that this hellsite malfunctioned again! I can't believe how many of you had something to say last chapter, so THANK YOU. Your reviews and comments were amazing, and always are amazing. Please, I'm begging you, keep reviewing like that! You have my love, my life ... hell, you've got my fucking soul as well. THANK YOU.

Anyway, Fred. I love him. Y'all already know that, but it stands repeating. This boy has come so far in 20 chapters, and he deserves all the props, even if he is still a bit of an idiot! Also, don't worry about Emma having found someone else. If there is one fiction trope that I cannot stand, it is love triangles ( _get them the fuck away from meee!_ ) so never fear. Emma deserves to try and find love, but let's face it, Fremma is fucking endgame now. :D

Who knows what will happen next? Seriously, please let me know if you liked it!

I LOVE YOU ALL.

\- Moon. xoxo


	22. That one time I climbed a building

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 22: That one time I climbed a building.

It was only half an hour into Rose's 25th birthday, and she was already drunk as fuck.

"… so in conclusion," she sobbed into her glass of wine, currently standing on a table and everyone else gathered around her laughing silently (but oh so hysterically) into their own drinks. "I – I am 25 now! And I love you all so, so much – I can't even – I want you to know that I appreciate you! ALL OF YOU. I LOVE YOU. I already – already said that, right? Oh god – look at me, I'm a fucking mess, ha, haaaa …" she trailed off.

"Ooookay!" Scorpius hastily cut in there, leaping forward to drag his wife off the table. He took her wine glass off her, ensured that she was safely in the arms of Bea, before leaping back up to address everyone. "HEY, GUYS! WASN'T THAT GREAT?"

"Dude, there's no saving that," I yelled out.

Scorpius shot me a look as several people snickered, but he ploughed on anyway. "Sooo, as you may have noticed, my beautiful and loving wife back there was just a LITTLE emotional at the thought of hitting a quarter of a century. While super loving and thoughtful, I'll just add a few things, 'cause she's clearly too gone to do it herself. Rose Charlotte Weasley, everyone! She's a Healer, she's a sister, she's a friend and a colleague. She's also a cousin, because I can't forget that," He added with a sigh, and myself and several other Weasley's in the crowd 'WOOOO!'d loudly. Scorpius rolled his eyes, but he was looking down at his wife fondly as he continued, "She got married to some super brilliant, super cool bloke who likes to argue with her a lot. She also happens to be insanely hot, which I am allowed to say 'cause I am said husband, and quite clearly, she's a good person 'cause she loves all of you lot to pieces. Wish her happy birthday because she's amazing. ROSE WEASLEY, EVERYONE!"

The party cheered and clapped as Scorpius jumped down off the coffee table and headed straight over to his wife. Rose was still crying, but she laughed as she let go of Bea and kissed Scorpius through her tears.

"… oh, Rose," was all I could say.

"Tell me about it," James added.

The crowd dispersed as Rose's impromptu speech was clearly at an end, and everyone started going back to their regular party-going antics. You know, drinking, flirting, crashing into things … general merriment. The balcony down the corridor from Rose's flat was decorated with Christmas lights, despite the fact that it was mid-April, and had definitely seen more than a party or two in its day. There was an abundance of mismatched outdoor furniture, and hand-labelled bins for recycling sat over in the corner, but the atmosphere here was excited and cheerful. James and I leaned back once more against the railing at the edge of the balcony, as we'd been doing before Rose had had an emotional breakdown and cried in front of her entire party.

"So really, Rose hasn't got such a bad life for herself by 25, has she?" I pointed out.

"Better than mine was," James said.

"What are you on about?" I snorted. "You're a nationally recognised Quidditch player and have a baby daughter! What else could you possibly want?"

James just shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't turn down being able to sleep through the entire night."

"Clara still waking up, huh?"

"WHY WON'T SHE SLEEP? SHE'S SUPPOSED TO BE SLEEPING NOW! ALL THE BOOKS AND MY MUM SAY SO, WE EVEN DID THE GLASS-THROWING BONFIRE THING, REMEMBER? BUT SHE'S STILL REFUSING TO SLEEP, AND SHE'S DOING IT JUST TO SPITE ME I KNOW IT, FRED–!"

"Whoa, ok, before you pull a Rosie and start actually crying," I laughed, cutting James off mid-desperate rant. "She's six months old. Isn't she SUPPOSED to be an annoying little shit at first?"

"At first? If by that you mean the first 17 years of her life, then sure!" James answered.

"Granted, we were little shits," I unfortunately had to agree.

"Still are," James added. "You know the other day I ended up going home and apologising to Mum for all the insane crap we put her through. Like, do you remember that time she asked us to put the washing away and we threw it down the stairs just to protest a point?"

"Which time?"

"Exactly!"

"To be fair, who makes their kids put the washing away instead of just using magic?"

"It's the principle of the thing!" James said. "We must've been like, ten years old or something, it was that long ago, but I suddenly felt so bad about it that I literally had to go and apologise. Besides, Clara's got enough goddamned magic in her as it is, we don't need to be encouraging her any more than necessary. I'm already imagining the mind-wiping scenarios we're going to have to do once she reaches primary school age."

"What did she do this time?"

"Made her own vomit dance and swirl around her room," James rolled his eyes. "We've suspected she's been pulling stunts like this for months, but could never prove anything until this happened. Never in my life have I seen something so simultaneously beautiful and disgusting! Libby cried."

"Well, see?" I pointed out. "Think of the positive side. You have a daughter, you get to boast about her achievements like they're your own, you did loads of shit by the time you reached 25! Then there's me, who's a few months off 26 and what have I got? A flat that I don't technically own but still rent like a 17-year-old, a three-quarter filled out application to become an Auror and a murderous lunatic who may or may not try and kill me out of revenge at some point. Oh yeah," I clinked my drink against James'. "I got loads goin' for me!"

"Well, when you put it like that."

"How the hell can you make that sound good?"

"I didn't realise that Reddale might still come after you," James said, voice going a little lower as apparently, he decided that that was the more pressing topic.

"Ah, well, they can't predict that's what he'll do," I shrugged vaguely. It was much easier pretending to be so blasé about my personal safety than actually worrying about it. All it did was freak people out, and who the hell wanted that? "Another body turned up about a week ago. It's been 4 weeks since the last one, but this time it was a key witness. Huntley's going spare, and I know Yael and Kayla are already doing everything that they can."

"Shit …" James mentioned.

"Don't worry, it's all good!" I waved this off hastily. "They are professionals and they will catch him, just you watch."

"Well, for starters, don't think I'm going to accept that totally unsatisfactory response to a murderer possibly out there plotting to kill you," James said, pointing an accusing finger at me. "because not only is that insane, it is also cool beyond all reason and I'm ashamed to admit that!"

"Just think, if he does kill me, it could spark the path to Clara becoming a magical superhero, hellbent on gaining vengeance for her uncle's death?" I suggested.

"That's–! … damn it, I want my daughter to be a superhero now," James grumbled under his breath. "but not the point. Either way, there's more to your life than dying just so that Clara has a reason to don a ridiculous costume and fight crime. You're forgetting that after you fill out that application, you're going to _be_ an Auror. Not to mention your mess of a family and all your mates …"

"I don't have mates," I said automatically.

"Fred," James just laughed into his drink. "I thought that at one point too. Face it, we've grown up from just relying on each other. We have friends now outside the two of us."

Ok, yes, of course I did. It was just a knee-jerk reaction to say that I didn't, but there had been a lot of reconsidering my life the last month or so. Aside from James and my family, it was quite obvious that I had somehow acquired friends over this past year. Sapphire immediately sprang to mind. She was one snarky bitch and delighted in it, but she was also kind of brilliant. Yael and Kayla I cared about as much in the office as I did outside it. Hell, even Mrs Ramsey across the hall was annoying, but she did agree to call the Aurors for me if she ever noticed someone freaky hanging around our building!

And yeah … Emma.

"Oh, whatever," I said to James. "I guess."

"You also have Emma, if whatever the hell's going on there is still relevant."

"Shut up, I know!" I scowled.

"Just sayin', mate," James held up his hands.

"Yeah, well, you try not sounding so defensive, when you get questioned about it, oh like 50 THOUSAND FUCKING TIMES A DAY!" I cried. "Honestly, how is my one relationship with one person ANYONE else's business?!"

"It's not," James shrugged. "and by all means, tell me nothing if you so desire. But she also happens to be one of my best mates, and you are too, funnily enough, so come on already and tell me what the bloody hell is going on!"

" _Literally nothing_ ," I said.

"Sod off, it's never nothing with you two," James snorted.

"Seriously, I've barely spoken to her for weeks!" I told him.

"Mate, you tried ignoring her before," James pointed out. "If it didn't help you get any more over her back then, then it's probably not going to do much now."

"You're assuming I've been trying to get over her," I said.

"You mean you haven't?"

I just shrugged, raising my drink to cover up saying much. I hadn't been exaggerating. I really had hardly seen or spoken to Emma since the accidental ILY incident. It was a different kind of silence to before though, when I had been ignoring her completely. I wasn't outright avoiding her anymore, it was just hard trying to turn your life around for somebody, if that somebody is constantly there, able to watch and judge you. Not that Emma was or is ever a judgemental person, but it's hard to concentrate when she's around! No, we'd occasionally run into each other, but I made it a point to keep things brief. Tentative smiles here. Hellos there. It physically hurt, but time gives you perspective and also lets you consider things you might not have before.

My name is Fred Weasley, and I am in love with Emma Terry.

SEE? Two months ago, I would have taken that statement to my grave!

But I can actually say it now! In my head, I mean. Good lord, don't you come anywhere near me with saying it out loud, 'cause once was quite enough! For now, this was ok. To make up for the lack of Emma and to fill the abundance of spare time that I apparently used solely for thinking about her, I'd started volunteering a lot more with the Auror Office lately. I nearly had that application finished, after all! There wasn't much to volunteering, it was just Yael and Kayla letting me file their paperwork for them in exchange for case details, but Huntley had said that he would tolerate my presence if I promised that I was still actually doing my own job in the meantime, so success! I was an official Auror consultant, now.

Some of the cases I'd filed, though … Jesus fucking Christ. Homicides kept coming in, no matter how long Reddale was still at large, and Yael and Kayla's attention was always divided between him and the next case: a bloke drowned in his own swimming pool. Kid smothered to death. Young woman beaten on the way home from work. They were constantly looking down at their case files that I had no problem whatsoever believing Yael when he'd once told me that there was no time for them to look up at each other.

Because oh yeah, I saw it between them! Like, I must've been blind, 'cause HOLY SHIT. For a while there, I think I had just assumed that they were close. Like, they worked well together, saw eye to eye, that kinda thing, but after witnessing first-hand the actual shit that they went through, I had realised that it was definitely much more than that. The two of them literally depended on each other for survival. They looked at each other like they were the fucking sun, rain and everything else. I don't say a thing about it and neither do they, but blimey, it was hard to watch sometimes! When you have to witness your friends break the news to parents that they've lost their child, or to husbands that their wives have been killed day in and day out, you keep that 'life's short' mentality. The way of thinking had gotten into my head that day we'd discovered the body of ol' Smithy and it had only grown since then. _Life is short_ , and sometimes there's only one other person you want to spend it with. Maybe one day, Yael and Kayla would have time to look up at each other. And maybe one day I would be comfortable with being in love.

See, perspective! Told ya, it does wonders.

However, the sceptical look that James was giving me was almost comical. I'm sure he's quite given up trying to understand what's been going on in my head the last few months, so I decided that he probably deserved some leeway.

"Have you SERIOUSLY not noticed a change in me recently?" I asked.

"I've been a bit busy not sleeping and watching dancing vomit," James answered. "but of course, Fred, I promise that I do notice you. No, your arse has not gotten fatter."

"Shut up. I guess there's no point in trying …" I muttered.

"Oh, stop pouting," James punched me then. "Don't worry, I've noticed that you've been super busy lately. That you're trying to figure something out with Emma. I think it's working, Libby actually thought you'd been cloned at one point."

"Seriously?"

"Well, yeah, but she's also so sleep-deprived that she'll believe anything these days," James said, trying not to laugh. "I told her once that the next match I played was going to be on dragons for Vanishing Sickness Awareness Month, and she totally thought it was true!"

"That should _be_ a thing."

"Oh, of course, but back to my point," James waved this off. "I'm not gonna lie … you've been an arsehole, lately. But yeah, I can tell that you're trying to make up for it without pushing at the same time, and I think Emma appreciates it, I really do."

"You talk to her much?" I asked off-handly.

James smirked. "You know, if you want to, you can just outright ask 'did she say anything about me?'."

"JAMES."

"Fine, fine," he sighed. "Occasionally, we talk about you. She talks to Libby more, mainly because I'm pretty sure that they have gossip sessions in the morgue at work. You know, in amongst all the decomposing human remains."

"Lovely."

"Oh, I know," James visibly shuddered. "Like, how are they not terrified of something coming back to life down there?!"

"Not all of us have a phobia of the undead, mate," I pointed out.

"SERIOUSLY? Like, haven't you ever watched _The Mummy_?"

"I spend my time more productively these days than watching decade's old Muggle films."

"Says the bloke who has seen every _Star Wars_ movie."

"IT'S A CINEMATIC CLASSIC!" I cried. "Oh, fuck you. Just tell me what Emma says about me, please and thank you."

James rolled his eyes, but answered, "She misses you. That's all I can really say. But mate, are you actually telling me that you've been using this time to seriously to come to terms with how much you love her?"

"Jesus," I hissed. "don't say it like that!"

"How else am I meant to say it?" James sniggered.

"I don't bloody know," I glanced around hastily, but of course nobody even noticed our conversation, let alone were managing to listen in. "but say it louder, James, fucking Merlin!"

"It's not like the whole family doesn't already know," James pointed out.

"Oh, they don't know shit – THEY KNOW NOTHING," I cried. "Look, I don't need anyone else getting on my back about this!"

"Aw, c'mon, mate–! Hang on. Anyone else?" James cut over himself. "Exactly how many other people DO know?"

"Besides you? Just Lib and Roxie, but that's already three people too many, in my opinion."

"You told your sister?" James asked in amazement.

"She wheedled it out of me!"

"Blimey," James shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry if I sound sceptical. I just never imagined this day ever happening! I mean, you take to change about as well as I probably would to playing Quidditch on a dragon – a lot of screaming and potentially fiery scenarios."

"Oh, what do you know?" I grumbled.

"I _did_ change," James pointed out. "I used to sleep around as much as you, remember?"

"That takes me back," I muttered.

"Point is, look at me now!" James grinned. "I didn't just change, I committed, and hard core, mate. I have a daughter now, there's no more committed than that!"

" _Stillnotmarried_ ," I coughed.

James rolled his eyes. " _Anyway_ … look, I believe you. I really do think that you're trying. I just think that if you want Emma to believe it as well, she's first got to witness it. And she can't do that with you still spending time apart."

"So what, you think I should go talk to her?"

"She's here tonight, right?" James glanced around the wild party for a moment, as if she might just pop up behind us. Actually … for a moment, I had to glance behind my shoulder again as well, juuust to make sure. "Like, I'm pretty sure I've seen her somewhere, so yeah, I think you should talk to her!"

"Oh, god. Take the alcohol away from me," I said, shoving my drink into James' spare hand. He took it hastily, asking,

"Why?"

"Because I was blind drunk one of the last times I spoke to her, and I can't do that again!" I said, stomach churning. "Plus, it feels like I'm about to throw up, and I've also already vomited in front of her enough times, thank you. How the hell did you ever do this?" I added, glaring back at James' amused face. "How did you ever be ok with liking Libby?"

"I always liked Libby," James said after a moment or two. "Ever since we met. I've always been ok with that, it was the idea of being in a relationship lasting more than a couple of months and liking _that_ , that freaked me out. It took a giant party and a ridiculous amount of alcohol to make me get over it. Then she told me she loved me for the first time," James grinned at literally nothing then, which made me simultaneously want to cry and laugh. Jesus, there's really no going back for him, is there?

"Well, like I said, I don't think more alcohol is going to solve this problem, James," I pointed out.

"Look, at the end of the day, I told Libby how I felt," My friend just shrugged. "Granted, I had to have that conversation twice because I was hideously drunk the first time, but talk to her, I did! Admittedly, we're different people Fred, and what works for me might not work for you. Just keep trying. That's really all the advice I can give ya. Cheers!" He lifted his drink and literally clinked himself with my drink that was still in his other hand.

Soon after that, our attentions got a little divided. James had spotted his brother across the balcony and left to go see him. " _Talk to herrrrr!_ " he threw back at me as he took my drink along with him. I realised that I'd sort of been meaning to also talk to Al and/or Bea for a while now, but I could only really build myself up to one heartfelt conversation at a time, here. Running into young Ruby in Emma's building had given me ideas, but that was something to tackle another time. James' advice rang in my head, but I got caught up in a conversation with one of Rose's friends from work, a lovely girl who's name was Bethany. Apparently, she also happened to have been the midwife for the duration of Libby's pregnancy. She was beautiful and a total flirt, but it was a mark of how much had happened lately that I barely felt a stirring of anything talking to her. I could objectively say that she was attractive, but I had no desire to take her home at all.

Emma was here, somewhere.

Almost as if by magic, it was in that moment that my eyes strayed from Bethany's face and I happened to catch her eye. Emma was currently across the balcony, talking to her friend Sarah, and it hit me like a tonne of bricks. She noticed me and we exchanged small smiles across the room, but it wasn't enough. I think James was right. I think it was finally time to talk to her.

"Bethany, my pal, it's been great seeing you! Seriously," I said, tearing my eyes away from Emma a moment to genuinely excuse myself from the conversation. "but I'm afraid there's someone I gotta go meet. Talk to you later?"

"Oh, yeah, nice seeing you too!" Bethany said, cheerfully. She waved me off and I immediately made a beeline for Emma. I noticed that she had turned around since I'd looked away. Maybe so that she wouldn't have to see me, because we did that sometimes, I admit. It was easier. And for a second, under the lights and the music, it was almost exact déjà vu to the night I first met her. Sans mummy costume, of course, but everything else was there! Hell, I think Sarah was even the friend that she had been standing with when I'd first approached her. You know, before we'd gotten pulled into our own conversation.

Maybe this was a sign.

"Hey!" I had to do it. She jumped slightly at my voice, but I pulled up right alongside her, pressing my shoulder into hers like that night on Halloween so long ago. She glanced up at me as I repeated the question, "So who're we hiding from, huh?"

For a second, I worried that she wouldn't get the reference, wouldn't remember. But she was slowly starting to smile and it was breath-taking. "This mate of mine," she answered back. "He hasn't been around much, lately."

"Where's he been?"

" _Dealin' with stuff_ ," she answered, curling her fingers into quote marks in front of us.

"Sounds like an arsehole. Hang out with me instead?"

Emma pulled away from my shoulder, exchanging a look with Sarah. Then, she turned back towards me and said, "It's nice to meet you. What's your name?"

"I've been called many things," I said. "Bonehead, Hotshot … but my name's Fred. And you?"

"Oh, I'm a Princess and you know it," Emma smirked, before stepping forward and throwing her arms around me. Oh, thank god. I hauled her off the floor in what was fast becoming my favourite way to hug, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist. I missed a lot of things about her, but this shit was definitely where it was at. We'd been this physically close (and then some) the first time we'd met as well at one point, but there was an intimacy now that you couldn't have replicated back then. I squeezed Emma tight when I realised that that intimacy was at least one of the things I had been afraid of. I stuck to sex with strangers because it was far less scary than actually getting to know someone. It was easier. It wasn't as messy. There was no risk of complications or emotions or feelings getting hurt. Of course, then Emma had waltzed in and fucked up my entire system, but … I think I'm kind of ok with that now.

"I've missed you," I muttered into her ear.

"I've missed you, too," she whispered back.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are," She pulled back then and I let her go so that she could drop back to her feet. I gave her a huge grin and asked,

"SOOOO. It's cool to see ya again! How've you been?"

"I've been all right," Emma said back, happily. "Haven't been up to much. Although, we did have to go into lockdown at work last week, 'cause Andy down the corridor got excited when his new sarcophagus turned up and opened it without thinkin'."

"Get out."

"No, really! Tell 'im, Sarah!" Emma turned around to appeal to her friend. However, she was brought up short when we both realised in that moment that Sarah had apparently mysteriously disappeared into the depths of the party, leaving us alone.

"… must've had somewhere else to be," she said.

"Yeah, that's it," I grinned. "So PLEASE tell me that this mummy turned out to be alive?"

"Nah, but Andy nearly died!" Emma said. "It expelled some magic air bourn poison and we were all shut inside our offices for nearly six hours straight until they could give the all clear. We went mad with boredom."

"Don't you work in your offices?"

"SIX HOURS," Emma reiterated. "I made a lot of paper aeroplanes, then wrote some very moving 'if you're reading this, I'm probably dead' letters."

"Wow."

"If it helps, I wrote you one."

"Do I get to read it?"

Emma snorted with laughter. "Not in this lifetime, mate. Six hours is a LONG time."

"Was the mummy even worth it?"

"Andy is still in the hospital and naturally a lot of people are mad at him, so everyone's goin' crazy trying to decide who gets to dissect it," Emma explained. "It's serious business."

"Oh, I'll bet."

"No, really!" she said. "Technically, it just got assigned to someone else, but Ash decided to have fun with it and hold a tournament to decide who gets to do it. Events include reassembling a skull the fastest, sorting and categorising an old bank vault of someone who's died recently, and naturally, racing chairs down the corridor without touching the floor or using wands."

"You could be Aurors with that level of skill," I noted.

"We Cursebreakers are a unique bunch," Emma said. "Which reminds me, your Auror application in yet?"

"I got two more weeks. Had to reschedule the medical exam 'cause I got a case," I said. I paused a moment, thinking about what to say next, and it just hit me … this felt so natural. Honestly! It was like we'd still been friends this entire time, that we had last spoken only yesterday. Even though I still worried that maybe Emma was still mad at me. Hell, I know I would be, I treated her like shit. She had every right to be kicking my arse to the curb, but here she was, still in front of me and chatting away like everything was fine. _Blimey_ , I owe her everything.

You know, at one point in the past, blinding terror had seized my throat every time I even looked at her. Like, literally to the point where I couldn't even bring myself to hang out with her anymore, but now, looking at her … all I felt was content.

I felt happy.

We were going to be fine, right?

I kind of wanted to ask her. There were a lot of things I wanted to ask, actually, and a lot of things I probably should ask about, but my head was spinning enough as it was. PERHAPS, I should go for something a little less emotionally hurdling at this point? One step at a time, Fred. Yes, ask her something easy, rather than bringing up me acting like a douchebag. We don't want to get into _that_ conversation too early in the evening!

"What's your favourite colour?" I randomly blurted out.

Emma eyed me weirdly. "Why?"

"I dunno, I just realised I don't know."

"Um," Emma answered slowly after a moment. "it's gold?"

"Fantastic!" I said. "Now I know what to get you for your birthday, AAAAAYYYY!"

"Oh my god," Emma snorted. She cocked a hip and added, "Ok, mate. What's your deal?"

"Sorry?"

"You just made a joke about buying me jewellery for my birthday!" Emma said. "Who are you and what have you done with Fred Weasley?"

"I told you, I've been … like, figuring stuff out lately," I simply shrugged at her. She was laughing, but it was a little in confusion as she eyed me. I wondered if Emma still thought about that night when I'd yelled at her. If I couldn't forget any of it, even after the amount of alcohol I'd drunk, then she sure as hell wouldn't have, right? Did she ever wonder if I was still in love with her or not? Or did she just never even consider it, put it at the far back of her mind and tried to move past it over the last month or so? Probably. Hell, the last we'd spoken, she had a boyfriend or something, right? The ice skating bloke, who I had forced myself to not try and hunt down a name for and run a background check on. I knew it was probably safer to just not ask, but …

"Yeah, you're freaking me out a little," Emma was joking, but there was a small something in her eyes that was still uneasy as she smacked my arm lightly. "Go be normal Fred again, please!"

"I thought you wanted me to change?"

"Fred," Emma sighed. "You know I would never make you change who you are."

"But I've been such a dick to you."

"Don't I know it," Emma smirked. "but … look, you can't make other people change, no matter how much you may want to. It just doesn't work that way. They have to want to change themselves, you can't force anyone."

I frowned. "But exactly! I haven't spent this last month trying to turn my fucking life around just because you want me to! Well, maybe a little. But mostly, it's because I want to. Because yeah, I admittedly am a bit of a bastard, and I don't wanna be anymore. I can tell you 'sorry' all I like, but that was never really going to do anything, right? The best apology someone can make is changing their behaviour, or at least that's what I read in some uplifting magazine in an Auror waiting room, once."

I think Emma was touched. I couldn't be sure. Fuck, I don't know! I kept yelling at myself to keep my damn mouth shut, but as she struggled for something to say in response, I just kept on going.

"Ok, fine, I'm freaking you out! Here, I'll be usual, inappropriate Fred for you. How's the boyfriend going?"

Success, I managed to get Emma to smile a little. "I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend?" she asked.

"Last I heard."

"Well, I think I'd know if I had a man in my life," Emma said. "Are you sure you're not thinking of someone else?"

"Seriously!" I insisted. "You told me you were seeing someone! Might be going somewhere … ringing any bells?"

"WAIT," Emma was outright laughing now. "You're not talking about Tim, are ya?"

"I dunno, you never told me a name–"

"OH MY GOD, FRED, yeah," Emma burst into hysterics. "I remember who you're talkin' bout now! Oh, blimey no, he didn't last long at all!"

Calm the fuck down, heart. You don't get to be this excited.

"But – you said it might go somewhere–?" I repeated.

"Yeah, key word being _might_ ," Emma reminded me. "C'mon, you know how it goes. It's nice and all, but a few dates in, it just fizzles, and then, you know. You lowkey avoid each other the rest of the year."

"I think I'm starting to realise that I really have never actually dated before," I noted.

Emma shrugged. "It's not so bad."

"I'll bare it in mind," I said, dryly.

"Just don't get stuck on a bad date, always have a back-up plan."

"Oh, trust me, I have slept with many-a crazy people!" I said.

"Don't I know it," Emma smirked.

"I wasn't implying you in that group."

"Weren't you?" Emma teased. She punched my shoulder with a slight wistful look and added, "We could get pretty crazy."

"Honey, statements like that make me remember dangerous things," I said.

(Holy fuck, WAS I FLIRTING WITH HER?).

Emma laughed. "I take everything back. You're still normal Fred. But I think there's something you want to hear me say and you're too afraid to ask me outright," She paused a moment and I, oh I don't know, PANICKED. How did she know?! I had no idea what was about to come out of her mouth, and fear gripped my stomach as I braced myself. She took a breath before continuing, "I'm just going to say it. Look, shit happens, Fred. And yeah, what you did was stupid and uncalled for and you treated me like dirt, but you are sorry, and I can tell that you're trying. Truth is, I fucking miss you like crazy, so … apology finally accepted."

Her eyes were so sincere. Holy shit, was I about to start crying? Actually, I wasn't joking, my throat was closing up just from looking at her and my eyes swam! Jesus, just hearing that made everything worth it. The last few months without her, trying to be a better person, telling her in the first place, it was all worth it because she missed me and she forgave me! I couldn't say a damn thing without bursting into tears, so I forced myself to hastily look away from her, plastering on a smile instead so that she wouldn't think I was ignoring her (you know, again). I had to move somewhere, lest she notice, so without meeting her gaze I called out, "WHOA, did you see that?!" and ran through the crowd towards the balcony railings.

"Wait! See what?" Emma yelled, running after me.

I stopped, looking out down at the street corner, Emma hitting the railings a few seconds after me. Of course I'd seen nothing, but it worked in allowing me to get myself under control and also, we could lean here together in what was becoming a nice, picturesque moment. "Oh … never mind," I shrugged, purposefully leaning my shoulder into hers. "Thought I saw something, but I guess I didn't. OH, WELL. Get a load of that view!" I instead cried, throwing my arms out over the railings.

Emma snorted. "You mean of the ten storey building across the road?"

"… I didn't say it was a _great_ view."

"The view's better from the roof, I think," Emma said, leaning her forearms against the railings. Our shoulders stayed pressed together. "How long have Rose and Scorpius lived in this building, anyway?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Ages, I think. Since leaving school?"

"It must be a nice place," Emma said. "I think I've moved at least ten times since I was 17."

"Well, they were in this building even back when they didn't actually live together," I said. "You know, like before Al and Bea got married and shit. I don't know why, it's a pretty old building."

"Like yours is better," Emma turned and smiled at me. Oh, boy.

"Nah, nah, you should've seen James' old place, before he moved in with Libby!" I said. "He hates cleaning though, so it was probably eventually torn down thanks to him."

" _Torn down_?"

"Mould. Lots of mould. He didn't get his bond back."

Emma shook her head, laughing. She glanced up then, at where the third storey balcony hung above us, and said, "Well, let's try and keep this place under control then, we don't want it torn down as well! Sit back, enjoy the view of the brick walls, Fred."

"If you want good views so much, then let's just go up to the roof?" I asked.

"Nah, the stairs don't go up that far," Emma said. "Rose mentioned it once, you can't actually access the roof anymore. Third storey balcony is as high as it goes."

"Bullshit," I scoffed. "There's roof access, they just don't want anyone up there."

"Probably with good reason!" Emma pointed out.

"So the building managers can have their own space to themselves?"

"So idiots like you don't try to jump off of it!" Emma said.

I glanced at the railings under our arms. They weren't exactly sturdy-looking; they were thin wrought-iron bars, more for decoration than keeping drunk people from careening over the sides. But the top bar that ran under our hands was flat and wide. Easy standing! I looked up and noted the exact carbon copy of the third storey balcony above us. That was as high as it went, huh?

Turns out it wasn't. There was a column that spanned up at the corner of the balcony railing. It was thick, bulky and there for practicality, but the column didn't stop at the third floor balcony. I leaned against the railings and stuck my head out to look at the column stretch up and up, until sure enough … it went all the way up until it reached the edge of the forbidden roof.

"I can climb that far," I figured.

Emma suddenly snapped her head to stare at me with wide eyes. "Are you nuts?" she asked.

"What?" I said. "Seriously, it's not that far, it would be easy to climb up to the roof from here! Bet you I wouldn't even need to take the stairs. Just stand on the rails, pull up to the third floor, then climb that pole the rest of the way to the roof–"

"Are you hearing yourself?" Emma said. "It's insane! You'll fall into the street and break your neck."

"You know, Emma, you're usually right about a lot of things," I said, pulling back on the railings in front of me, testing its strength. "but a lot of the time, life's not about being right. You forgive me. Thank you, I don't deserve your forgiveness at all, but you've given it anyway and I'm not stupid, I know that there's still a long way to go from here. But if we can make it all the way up to the roof …" I turned and grinned at her. "Hey, think of the view?"

Emma groaned, but her eyes were sparkling and I knew that I had her. "I'm going to die."

"No, you won't!"

"I hate you, Fred," Emma shook her head, leaning to place her drink on the ground. "I already regret this."

"Positive, my dear Princess!" I cried. "You wanna go first?"

"No way in hell," Emma scoffed. "I need to make sure that you can do it first. Don't for a second think I'm cleaning up the blood if you die, though."

I swung close to her as I held onto the railings. "That's the spirit!" I whispered into her ear. Bless her, she did her best to not giggle.

Naturally, nobody even noticed what we were planning until I actually had one leg already over the railings. "Whoa, whoa!" someone yelled out near us. "What the hell are you doing?"

"DUDE!" someone else chimed in.

"Someone get him down!"

"Is that bloke gonna jump?"

Of course, it was James who yelled out, " _Go home, Fred, you're drunk!_ "

I rolled my eyes, but didn't stop, not even for a second. I wasn't really scared of heights at all, but I'll admit that I was actively trying not to look down. Falling from the second storey might not kill me, but it would probably still hurt very much! Emma was hovering and getting more and more like she was going to back out any second, but I wasn't going to let her!

"Fred! Emma!" Rose's very drunk voice suddenly chimed in. She still had a glass of wine in her hand and leaned heavily on Emma's shoulder as she turned up, watching me contemplate where to move next. "What in god's name are you doing?"

"Rosie, you ever been up on the roof before?" I asked her.

"Wha', nooooo, you're not allowed on the roof!" Rose said. She gestured wildly with an arm, saying, "Get your arse back 'ere!"

"Aw, c'mon," I shifted my legs, since it was clear that there was no getting around standing on top of the railings to reach the third floor. "Rosie, you've lived in this building for god knows how many years, and you've NEVER been on the roof before? You're 25 now! Live a little!"

"You're not actually gonna climb there?"

"Sure! It can't be hard," I said. I glanced back and added, "Bet you can't do it."

That was literally all it took to make something steel in Rose's eyes. Have I ever mentioned before that the girl is quite competitive?

"I'll take you up on that!" she said.

"I can't judge," Emma grumbled. "I'm doing this against my better judgement."

"Hold my wine!" Rose cried, shoving the glass into Emma's chest.

"Oh, dear …" Emma muttered, taking it hastily.

She kept muttering and fretting, but of course my wonderful Emma still supported us in trying to climb. The party kind of came to a screeching halt as more and more attention was drawn in and everyone gathered to stare in amazement. Rose gave me a run for my money in terms of height, but I still had at least a couple of inches on her, so it was up to me to brave the balcony first. I clambered up and had to balance on the balls of my feet on top of the railings. I gripped the iron with tight fists in front of me, looking up at the third floor, which suddenly seemed so far away now that I had to let go and stand in order to reach it. My heart was pounding almost as much as it does whenever I looked at Emma! But the girls were holding my ankles, saying that they had me, so I stood. The crowd of the party gasped ridiculously and I resisted throwing them an exaggerated wink.

This is my best plan yet.

"Do you have it?!" Rose yelled up at me.

"I'm not quite tall enough!" I called back. I was balancing on the railings, arms waving uselessly above me as the third floor ledge was still only inches away from my grasp. "Don't worry, I'll just jump–"

"FRED!" Emma cried.

I swear the entire party screamed when I leapt for the ledge. I don't know why they're all worrying, I caught it! I mean, admittedly I think I'd sorely overestimated my upper body strength, as I now had to somehow pull myself up and I was quite literally dangling over a London street corner, but still.

Ok, so maybe this was going to be written on my tombstone someday.

"Uhhh – little help?!" I yelled down.

"Oh my god, you're gonna be the death of me!" Emma darted forward, joining Rose in grabbing my flailing legs and helping to push. I heard Al somewhere saying, "Christ on a bike, Christ on a …" and James quite clearly yelling that he wanted my sofa if I died, so you know, thank you everyone for the vote of confidence. At least Rose and Emma believed in me! With their help, I managed to pull myself up and take hold of the bars of the third storey railings. When my chest was level, I accidentally scraped a knee badly on the concrete trying to scramble my way up. But amazingly, my feet hit the ledge and I could haul myself up without maiming anything! I let out a breath that I didn't realise I was holding. I clung to the railings and glanced back down below. I was seriously taken aback to find that everyone was apparently now screaming and cheering for me. Seriously! Rose and what felt like her entire birthday party was hanging out over the railings to look up at me, applauding with a roar that I hadn't even noticed until now. My cousin was practically crying while Emma just shook her head.

"Oh, hey!" I called back down as I climbed over to safety on the other side of the railings. "You should come on up, it's lovely here!"

I honestly thought Rose was going to be next. She certainly had the motivation, and I think Emma was still a bit terrified. However, it was neither of them who ended up being the next person to brave the balcony.

No. Turns out, the next person was Bea.

"I'm coming, Fred!" she suddenly called out, moving forward.

"I'm sorry, what?" Rose snorted at her.

"I'm doing it!" Bea said. Blimey, I'd never seen the woman look so determined. She pulled her blonde hair back and shook out her arms.

"But you never–"

"–do the crazy shit?" Bea said to her best friend. "Yeah, I know I'm usually the one who keep us all out of the hospital, but that can be someone else's job tonight. I'm fucking climbing this thing!"

"Whoa, _Beeeeeeea_! How much have you had?" Rose asked in bewilderment. "That's the first time I've heard you swear in ages!"

"WHAT'S GOING ON?!" I yelled down.

"MY WIFE IS TRYING TO KILL HERSELF!" Al was the one who screamed back up at me. It was difficult to see what was happening from up here. Behind me, it was clear that the third floor didn't get much use out of their balcony. It was decorated with an empty rubbish bin and a cheap set of plastic chairs and one table, one of which was missing a leg. A couple of empty glass bottles, but apart from that, it was sort of boring up here. The action was going on downstairs, where apparently, my cousin-in-law had gone slightly insane. I leaned over as far as I dared, only to see her already climbing up onto the railings, in amongst some cheers and laughter.

"HOLY SHIT, Bea, are you trying to give me a heart attack?!" Al was yelling, dancing alongside her. "Please, get down!"

"Al," Bea turned and stared her husband down. "I'm doing this."

"But _why?_ "

"Because," she said. "if I can do this … I can do anything."

 _I could have a baby_ was so heavily implied that I don't think anyone missed it. There was a beat as Al watched her with an expression akin to wonder and shock. No, risking one's life by stupidly climbing a building without taking the stairs probably had no correlation at all to one's reproductive system. But hell, I talked to Emma again tonight! Maybe I wasn't the only one seeing signs and taking them. Maybe this would have the same cathartic effect of smashing glass bottles for her? Either way, Bea certainly seemed to think so. We were making something of our lives tonight. I mean, I actually climbed this thing! Hell, I could still hardly believe that I'd done it. It wasn't one of the most terrifying things I'd ever done, but it had certainly been thrilling and Emma kept calling up to me as if to check that I wasn't about to pitch over the side. It felt nice. It felt good to have people cheer, have her watching me and hoping that I'll be ok.

Down below, Al kissed his wife with an expression so in love, it was sickening.

"You insane woman – GET CLIMBING!" he yelled.

To my surprise, getting Bea up here wasn't that difficult! I wouldn't call her short, but she definitely didn't have the height that Rose or I did, and it did admittedly take a lot of help to allow her to reach. But she was so determined that it was relatively easy. I kneeled down so that I could hold onto her wrists through the railings and pull. With the others pushing, Bea quickly made the perilous journey up to the third storey. I stood up with her as she climbed and helped her clamber over. "Oh my god!" She was shaking probably with a mix of adrenaline and glee. "Did I seriously just do that?"

"You seriously did!" I yelled, only letting go once she was firmly on her feet next to me. "You made it, Bea!"

"YEAH, I DID!" Bea nearly bowled me over with a hug that I didn't realise she needed so much. I grinned into her hair and let her squeeze me too tight. She's gettin' that fucking baby someday.

Next up was Emma.

"Oh my god, oh my god, I'm going to die, I'm ACTUALLY going to die and it'll be your fault – OH MY GOD!" Emma shrieked as at one point, her foot slipped out of Rose's hands. Several people gasped dramatically and freaked out as for just a second, she was freely hanging out over the busy London street from the third storey. Luckily, Bea and I held her wrists so tightly that she was gonna have bruises. We yelled out encouragement as Rose hastily grabbed her once more and together, Emma managed to get a foot up and stabilise herself.

She clung to the third floor railings for a moment, elbows hooked over and refusing to let go of Bea or I. She was visibly shaking, much like Bea had been and I really shouldn't have been laughing, but Christ, look at her! She was petrified and she did it. She didn't think it was fun or exciting, she thought it was stupid and dangerous, but hell, she is still here in front of me, and that said a lot. It said that just maybe, we would be ok. Maybe we could get up to that roof after all! Just maybe …

God, I am so fucking in love with her, aren't I?

"Jesus, I don' think I'll ever breathe normally again!" she burst out frantically, shaking her head. "Never ever, ever!"

"Emma, you're all right!" Bea laughed.

" _Princess, you fucking did it!_ " I yelled.

She glanced up then and met my gaze across the railings. For a second, the entire world narrowed to just her.

She grinned.

"Gotta think of that view," she said. "Now get me the hell over this thing–"

From down below, Rose was yelling that she was coming next. Nobody was stopping her at this point, not even Scorpius, who I think had resigned himself by now to just hold the drinks and hope for the best. We pulled Emma over before crouching down to hastily help up Rose, who had already begun climbing. Belatedly, I realised that she really shouldn't have gone last, if at all, considering how much she'd drunk that night. Seriously, the girl could barely stand on a flat surface at the moment, which had to be saying something! But when even I had my misgivings, Rose was already wobbling precariously on the narrow ledge, crouched down and holding onto it with her hands. If she wanted to get up here, she needed to stand and grab our hands, and it was too late to stop now!

"Come on, you can do it!" Bea called down, her arms outstretched through the bars.

"Just stand super steady, you're tall enough, you'll be fine," I added.

"Oh, shiiiiit. How did I think I could do this–?" Rose shook her head.

"Hey!" I suddenly stood so that I could stick my head over and look down at her. She glanced up at me as I shouted, "Is that the voice of a quitter? NO IT IS NOT! You are my Rosie, and you can fucking stand and take our hands! You are 25 now, you've done so much in your life, and you're gonna do more, SO JUST STAND ALREADY!"

Rose kept shaking her head, but she looked up at all three of us, yelling out to her. Down below, she had her entire party encouraging her to go for it. Hell, I think even Scorpius was telling her to just bloody do it already. She didn't give us a warning. She just bit her tongue and stood, but luckily we were there waiting to grab her. She nearly cried achieving just that and Emma whooped for her, Scorpius yelling, "That's my wife!" in the background.

Unfortunately, that's where things went pear-shaped.

"You're nearly there!"

"C'mon, pull!"

"You can do it, Rosie!"

"Hang on, I can't – OOOUCH!"

"FUCK–" I yelled in sudden pain. Bea's hand had accidentally got trapped between Rose's arm and the concrete ledge and she'd let go. Emma and I weren't prepared to suddenly have all the weight and I knew she was going down before it happened.

Oh, balls.

"ROSE!"

 _Screaming_ –

* * *

"So, moral of the story …" Rose said weakly from her hospital bed. "Don't turn 25?"

"How about 'don't climb buildings when you've been drinking'?" Scorpius put in there, dryly.

It had literally only been his quick thinking that stopped Rose from becoming a human-shaped _splat_ on the pavement below. His cushioning charm had taken a large brunt of the fall, but she'd still hit the ground pretty hard. Hell, we all heard the crunch and scream as clearly, she'd broken something. I don't think Emma, Bea and I had ever run faster! We were down the stairs and ploughing out into the street even before the rest of the party could get there.

I don't think I'd ever seen someone in so much pain, and that included myself and the time I broke both my legs! (Although, to be fair, they hyped me up on so many painkillers at the scene of the shop explosion that by the time I made it to the hospital I was laughing, but that probably wasn't the point here). They say Healers make the worst patients, and it was definitely true for Rose. At first she kept trying to crawl out of bed, since she was still kinda drunk and now a little high, thanks to the load of potions they'd drugged her up with. Thankfully, they seemed to be doing the trick in placating her. She also seemed to be utterly humiliated to have to be treated by one of her Healer friends who was currently on duty.

"Honestly, darling," Healer Jono Lawson said, rolling his eyes as Scorpius silently kissed the side of Rose's head. "I know you wanted me to come to your party tonight, but you didn't have to hurt yourself just to come and see me instead!"

"Mmmm … y'know I can't resist youuuu," Rose warbled.

Jono snorted. "You're a lucky girl. I mean, for starters, you fractured your left arm in three places, crushed several ribs, hit your head pretty hard …"

"Y'know I can't do things halfway," Rose teased vaguely. "Mmm … whaddid you guys give me? This stuff's strooooong!"

"It had to be strong, you were screaming," Bea mentioned, hovering worriedly at her feet. "Oh my god, Rosie, I could have killed you!"

"Hey, at the end of the day, breaks and fractures are easy enough to heal," Healer Lawson reminded us. "The knock to the head, on the other hand, might mess her up a bit. You'll need to watch her for the next 24 hours, ensure that she doesn't suffer any nausea, fade in and out of consciousness or complain of blurry vision. A headache's gonna be normal though, ain't that right?"

"IIIIII like you!" Rose sang.

"Rosie, darling, you never fail to entertain."

"I can't help but feel like this is kind of my fault …" I mused after a moment, once Healer Lawson had moved away to sort out the release form for Rose. As a result, I got several different looks of indignation from the various people who had taken the trip with us to the hospital, including (but not limited to): an anxious Al, beside-herself Bea, and James who apparently just found all this shit hilarious. "Ok, ok …" I muttered, waving a hand.

"Come on, Bonehead," Emma tugged on my arm, leading me away. Apparently we had crashed the emergency department for about as long as the Healers were willing and I noticed that Healer Lawson was now not stopping his boss from chivvying everyone out. Only Scorpius stayed with Rose, though no doubt this would get spread quickly and pretty soon, we'd have an entire Weasley Family Reunion right here in this hospital!

That kind of thing tended to happen to us a lot, actually.

Emma shoved me into a chair in the waiting room as everyone else managed to also spread out and nab seats. I think the adrenaline was still pounding through her, since she was quivering slightly as she sat next to me. She took one look at me before laughing and hiding her face in my shoulder a moment.

"Oh my god!" she said, pressing her forehead into me lightly before sitting back up. "I still can't believe we did that! Look at me, my hands are still shaking–"

"I didn't mean for Rosie to fall!" I felt the need to defend myself.

"I know you didn't," Emma said. "Don't worry, nobody would think you did."

"This night took a bit of a turn, huh?"

"If you're asking me if this how I imagined spending Rose's birthday, then yeah," Emma said. "It's not exactly gone down how I thought."

"It's better, right? You climbed the balcony!"

"Yeah, but we never actually made it to the roof in the end, did we?" Emma added with a sigh.

I grinned down at her as she slumped back into her plastic waiting room chair, letting her head loll back against the wall. "You're actually disappointed, aren't you?"

"Why aren't YOU?" Emma said, peering at me. "Getting to the roof was the whole point!"

"Maybe, but we'll get there someday," I shrugged. "I mean, I was just a little concerned when Rose basically broke herself, so I think we could reasonably expect that the party would be over once the birthday girl was taken to hospital."

"Still," Emma said. "I wanted to get to that roof."

"You were petrified!"

"Didn't you want to see the view?"

"Emma …" I think my voice went soft, which I hadn't intended. It just came out that way as I watched the bitterness flicker in her expression. "You know it wasn't about the view."

She didn't answer. Of course it hadn't been about the fucking view. We both knew that and MATE, why am I bringing it up?! She's only just forgiven me! Hell, she could talk about not expecting this night to turn out the way it had – I had fully expected to spend Rose's birthday drinking happily with my cousins and trying not to think about Emma too much. But judging by how badly she had wanted to get up to that roof, she clearly wanted to try and fix whatever the fuck this was between us about as much as I did.

And I'd done a lot of soul-searching and shit recently, but if there was one thing over the last couple months that I hadn't been able to quite figure out yet, it was what I wanted out of this. Like yeah, I wanted her to love me or whatever, I wanted her in my life, but who the hell would want to be in a relationship with _me_? Not only was it terrifying, but hadn't I already proved time and time again that I would no doubt fuck it up somehow in less than a week? Hell, I give me two days, tops! All I knew was that I'd missed her and now, I knew that she had missed me too. I felt the leftover adrenaline racing through me as well as I looked at her. My head was on fire. I suddenly didn't quite know what to do with my hands. Emma glanced up at my words and before I could think, our faces were barely inches apart.

Don't do it, Fred.

DON'T FUCKING DO IT.

I was literally about to. It took a split second to make the conscious decision in my head and YEP, I was gonna kiss her. No thinking, just hands in her hair, moaning and hot desire burning. She saw the decision in my face, so yeah, she knew it was coming. She could have moved. I don't fucking know, maybe she was about a second away from doing so or something, because before I could do more than brush against her lips, suddenly a voice we both recognised made us jump and recoil like we'd been electrocuted.

" _Ok, I'll let Fred and Emma know – wait, where are they?_ "

"Oh my god–" Emma quickly turned away from me. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear – wait, what?"

"Hey! We're over here!" Before I could say a bloody word, Emma was off out of her seat, leaving me in the wayside as she went to catch the attention of Scorpius, who was apparently trying to gather up everyone. Emma continued to speak to the others without glancing back once.

OH MY GOD SOUNDED ABOUT DAMN RIGHT.

I'm pretty sure that my knees would give out if I tried to stand.

* * *

A/N: They forgive! They climb buildings! They nearly kiss! tHEY iN lOOOOVE! Seriously, thank you so much for every single comment. I swear to god, you are all amazing, wonderful people and please keep doing it! The fact that so many of you have become so invested in these crazy kids is overwhelming and it means the world to me. x

Also, please note: I'M LEAVING ENGLAND SOON! In a few weeks, I'll begin travelling my way back to New Zealand slowly, via a bunch of other countries first (YAY TOURIST). This unfortunately does mean that for at least 3 months (Aug, Sep, Oct), I'll be on the road and potentially not writing a lot. I've resigned myself to the fact that there is absolutely no way I'm going to be able to finish this story before I leave. So I'm super sorry, but be reassured that this story will eventually be finished someday! :)

Which reminds me that a lovely person actually asked me how long I plan this story on being, and quite honestly, my answer is DUDE, I'M SORRY, I DON'T KNOW. Like, _maybe_ we're halfway through at this point? MAYBE? The only thing I do know for sure is that there's still loads of shit that needs to happen!

So again, I'm sorry. But thank you, and I love each and every one of you!  
\- Moon. xoxo


	23. That one time I arrested someone

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 23: That one time I arrested someone (for flirting with Emma).

WHY.

MOTHER OF GOD, WHY.

What in the fucking WORLD possessed me to think that trying to kiss Emma again would be a good idea?! I couldn't even stand. I was stuck where I was sitting, staring after her as she ran to catch up with the others. Although, to be fair, she hadn't exactly moved away until the last second. She had seen it coming and she didn't move, so a part of me figured she couldn't have been completely opposed to the idea. However, it does do wonders for your confidence when the person you're trying to kiss immediately runs away at the threat of anyone else noticing. I groaned and planted my head in my hands. I'm a basket case. I'm a bloody mess. Who was I ever kidding, there was no saving this friendship now! How many times had I forced myself to look away when all I had wanted to do was take her on my sofa? Millions, I'd managed to supress it _millions_ of times for the sake of our messed up friendship! And the ONE TIME I finally decide fuck it, I'm actually going to kiss her simply because I want to, _she literally runs away_.

FUCK. MY. LIFE.

Luckily, in times of personal crisis, you can always count on Rose.

We ended up crashing at hers and Scorpius' place. James and Libby had only stayed long enough to make sure that she got there safe, and then left for their own home and their daughter, but several others still remained! Among the survivors was Al (grumbling to anyone who would listen that they were all crazy for even attempting such a thing), Bea (making a bazillion cups of tea and still saying it was all her fault), Emma (beautiful, still not meeting my eye), Rose's brother, Hugo (still laughing hysterically at his sister as he wrote an owl to their parents explaining what had happened), Hugo's girlfriend, Caroline (helping Bea with the galleons of tea), Lily (already crashed out on the sofa) and finally, myself, currently on Watching Rose Duty.

"You so fuuuuuunny!" Rose warbled, drunkenly staggering into me as I tried to lead her over to her sofa. Scorpius was busy trying to reassure Bea that no, this wasn't her fault honestly and _blimey, girl, how many people are you trying to serve tea to?_ I shoved Lily's feet out of the way and plopped Rose down with a snort of laughter.

"Rosie, I love you. But next time I try to convince you to climb a building with me, say no."

"Mmmm," she said vaguely as I sat down on the coffee table opposite her. "Heeeey, where's your Idiot?"

"My idiot?" I repeated in amusement.

"'mmm mean twin!"

"Twin?" I asked. Then, it clicked and I said, "OH, Idiot Twin! You mean James? He and Libby went home, remember? They said goodbye to you and everything."

"Theyddddid?" her words were slurring together now. Her blue, Uncle Ron eyes were unfocused and dilated as she giggled. "Whoops! Guess I forgot that!"

"It was literally five minutes ago."

"I am soooooo high," Rose reassured me.

She had that right. I could tell her that I was the king of fucking England and not only would she probably believe me, she would also forget entirely that I'd even said it within thirty seconds! Oh, Rose. I shook my head, glancing around and trying to find Emma. She still had her back to me and I couldn't tell if it was on purpose this time, or whether it was because she was talking to Caroline on the other side of the lounge. She accepted a mug of tea from Bea gratefully and I managed to catch the side of her face as she smiled in thanks. Jesus lord.

"Who're you tryna see?" Rose tugged vaguely on my sleeve.

"No one," I said, turning back to her. "Just rest your pretty head, my dear Rosie! Clearly you smacked it harder than we thought."

But her eyes narrowed. She leaned forward, beckoning me closer (and by beckoning, I mean she grabbed me by my shirt). "Fred!" she whispered loudly. "Freeeeeed! 'mmmgod, you tryna see Emma!"

"Ok, Rosie," I peeled her fingers off me.

"Noooo, really!" she kept insisting though, yanking on the hand that I had used to pull her off me in the first place. "You don' know it, but you watch 'er like, allllll the time. Why don' you just like, kiss her already? You should. Youuuushould KISS 'er!"

I snorted. "Rosie, you wanna know a secret?"

"Always!"

I beckoned her close this time. She eagerly swung forward and nearly swayed her way to the floor as she moved too quickly for her head to handle. I had to grab her shoulders hastily to keep her upright and she sniggered at the motion. "My secret," I whispered. "is that I did."

"Did wha'?"

"Jesus, I know you're high as fuck at the moment, but keep up!"

"Wait," Rose frowned. "you mean you kissed her?"

"Well, I tried, but yeah," I admitted. "At the hospital. Just now."

Thing is, I felt safe telling Rose. Because in five seconds she'd forget all about this, but also because Rose was my resident nutcase. We all know that if there's anyone prone to drama in this bloody family, it's Rose Charlotte Weasley! So despite the fact that her mind was less than stellar right now, she had solid experience in this kind of thing. Nothing she said could be completely worthless, I'm sure!

"Why aren't ya fuckin', Fred?"

… see what I mean?

"Oh my god, Rose," I burst into laughter.

"Nooooo, no laughin'!" she complained. "I'm compe – com – complaaaa … uh, mm forget my words …"

"Don't strain yourself."

"OH," Rose smacked me on the shoulder. "I'm _completely_! Tha's what I wasssayin'."

"You're … completely?"

"SERIOUS, I'm completely serious!" Rose punched the air triumphantly. "YUS. Nailed it. Ow, my head hurts."

"Maybe we really should have this conversation another time?" I smirked. "Y'know, when you're sober and actually able to speak properly."

"Nooooo, I know youuu!" Rose complained. "You'll never talk to me agaaaain! 'splain yourself, 'cause I'm _completely serious_. Why aren't you and Emma fucking?"

"I'm trying, Rosie," I told her. "I tried to kiss her, honestly! But the others nearly saw and she ran away."

" _Nooooooo_ ," Rose whined.

"That was my internal thought as well."

"I'm gonna haveta talk to that girl!" my dear cousin insisted. She shifted on the sofa then, shoving Lily's feet aside once more (they thumped onto the floor without her even twitching) and I think Rose made to stand up, but of course she wasn't actually going anywhere. A second later, she huffed back into the corner of the sofa, red curls all over her face and muttering, "Mm'be ima talk to her later …"

"Yeah, you just rest for now."

"Fred, you love Emma, righ'?" Rose asked me from behind her hair. "Please say yes."

I sighed. "Yes."

She giggled, spitting out curls from her mouth. "'mmmm so proud."

"You're _proud_?"

"Yeah," she said, looking up at me happily. "'member when we were at school? We were kids. You never wanted to be in loooove. You blew up owls. Bubblegum! I got stuck to Scorrrrrpius. Blimey, he's hot. He's my husbaaaaand!"

"Ok, you're literally just saying words now, I'm fairly certain," I rolled my eyes. "I think it's time we called it a night–"

"No, noooo!" Rose grabbed my hand with a lot of strength for someone in her loopy state. "Sorry, I lost track. I mean 'mm so proud of you. YOU. I never thought you'd be in love. You picked a brilliant girl!"

"To be fair, I don't think I got much choice in the matter."

"Ohhh, you never do," Rose agreed reasonably, squeezing my hand. "Or I wouldn't've married Scorpius. But you coulda pretended forever. Ignored 'er. Run away. Don't run awaaaay!" She practically yanked me off the coffee table as she waved my hand. "You don' like feelin's. But you love her, and 'mm so proud 'cause you CAN love her, y'know? It must've taken a lota guts. A lota thinkin'. Youddid that! YAY, FRED!"

I wrapped my fingers around hers a little tighter and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Thanks, Rosie," I muttered. I hadn't realised how much I would appreciate someone saying that to me. It wasn't just falling in love for the first time. This had quite literally affected my entire bloody life, and it wasn't an exaggeration! Considering how quickly Emma had pulled away once the threat of other people came on the scene, I guess I was wondering whether I should have even made the effort. But Rose reminded me. The Fred who'd first met Emma never would have let himself fall in love with her! It was ok to be proud of that, even if Emma never did love me back. Hell, I was still kind of scared of the thought of her loving me back! Like, shit, what would that mean?

Ok, maybe it was better to just concentrate on one life-affirming moment at a time.

I realised then that Rose was accidentally falling asleep, and I had to try and quickly shake her awake. Keeping her up all night was going to be a mammoth task, considering how out of it some of us already were, but for the sake of Rose's head (and the fact that MAYBE, it might've been my fault) I decided it would be my duty! Over the night, everyone started dropping like flies. Bea and Al retreated to her old bedroom, while Scorpius snored softly in an armchair close to Rose. Emma fell asleep leaning against the wall (which I was sure couldn't be comfortable) and Hugo and Caroline were sleeping on cushions in the hallway. Eventually it was just me and Rose still awake, playing Exploding Snap on the lounge floor. Rose managed to convince me that Emma would wake up more tired than we would unless I moved her, so at one point I coaxed a sleepy Emma to lean against me instead. I rested back against the sofa as I still sat on the floor. She passed out cold on my chest, curled up in my lap.

I didn't think much of it. I figured I'd let her sleep a bit, then shove her up onto the sofa with Lily. No need to add more to the ridiculous drama of tonight … but I, um, also passed out somewhere around six in the morning. Rose was sober by that point and coming down off the pain meds anyway, and I WAS TIRED, OK? I didn't mean to fall asleep with her! Hell, it wasn't even the most comfortable position, since I woke up only a couple of hours later with my arse completely numb and my head lolling back on the sofa.

"Jesus fucking Christ, I'M DYING," I mumbled, trying to move my head up without breaking it.

I think it was late morning, but no one was really awake yet, apart from someone maybe in the kitchen. The soft clink of moving a plate around was probably what woke me. THEN, I glanced down and remembered Emma.

Fuck.

She was so soft and looked bloody ridiculous in the mornings. I forgot that about her. Her hair was a mess and she was sleeping lightly, since I could feel her stirring. I still couldn't believe that she had honestly climbed that balcony with me, despite the fact that she thought it was insane. And hell, she'd had fun doing it! She'd done that solely for me, and I don't know what that said about who had changed recently, but I knew that I'd never forget that grin on her face once she had reached the third floor. It was beautiful, and at that thought, I tried to tentatively move out from underneath her. I didn't want to move. Despite the fact that I could hardly feel my arse, I could've stayed there with her lying on me forever. However, she was also practically rubbing herself against my crotch, so I figured I better fuckin' get outta there before things got even more awkward and painfully embarrassing. I managed to slide out from under her and gently let her curl up on the carpet next to the sofa.

Fred, you goddamn idiot.

Luckily, I found Bea in the kitchen, munching on some toast. "Oh, hey," she said happily as I shuffled in blearily. "What the hell time did you end up going to sleep?"

"I think the sun was coming up," I admitted.

"You looked pretty comfy back there in the lounge."

"Don't you get sassy with me, girl," I yawned, which I think caused about a hundred different cracks and snaps in my back.

Bea winced. "That didn't sound good."

"Yeah, I should probably not be attempting any more acrobatics anytime soon," I admitted. "Blimey, I'm an old man!"

"Yeah, well, the kettle's boiled, Mr Old Man," Bea smiled.

"You're divine," I said.

Bea just giggled a little at that. It's funny, I think every time I'd seen her since Rose and Scorpius' wedding she had looked pale, kind of down, a little like she was trying to carry rocks around all day. But this morning, she seemed positively chipper! I remembered that triumphant hug from last night and grinned back.

"We did climb the balcony last night, though!" I reminded her.

"Hell, I know, oh my god!" Bea latched onto the topic with glee. "Fred, thank you, I can't believe I did that!"

"You were amazing, of course you did!"

"I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't made me though –"

"You kidding?" I asked. "You practically yelled _ima do it_."

"But I wouldn't have ever done something like that of my own accord," Bea pointed out. "Only you would be crazy enough to suggest it."

"I think that's a compliment?"

"Thank you," Bea laughed. "Seriously. I feel like I can do anything now!"

"Like have a kid, even?"

Bea paused a moment and I inwardly kicked myself. Mate, why'd you bring THAT up? But I remembered what Rose had told me back at the party for Emma's parents' wedding anniversary, that next time I got curious and wanted to know how things were going, I should just talk to Al or Bea myself. "Sorry," I muttered, busying myself with making a cup of coffee.

"It's ok," Bea tried to keep her tone light. "You can ask me about it if you want to."

"Well … how're you doing?" I asked awkwardly.

"Better," Bea said, and I turned around. "The adoption process is so difficult, though! It's interviews and applications, and more bloody interviews and even though we've applied for basically everything we can think of, it feels like nothing is even happening sometimes, despite the fact that I know it is. We're on a waiting list," she added in explanation. "Turns out there are a lot of witches and wizards who want to adopt, and it's even more difficult trying to adopt a Muggle child! It's literally just a waiting game now."

"Ah, you'll get one," I shrugged. "There's tonnes of kids out there who need places. There's even some foster kids who live in Emma's building. One of them whooped my arse at Quidditch!"

"Yeah, I think I'll leave the Quidditch up to Al," Bea smiled. "Not only am I terrible, but I'll basically just support whoever the rest of the family is supporting, which usually means the Chelsea Cheetahs. I hear his next match is a pretty big one? Like, the semi-finals or something?"

"Oh, blimey," I said. "I'm losing track, there's literally too much happening right now! He seriously got into the semis?"

"Well, Al doesn't stop talking about it, so I'm assuming as much," Bea said.

"If he gets into the finals, I'll definitely go," I said. "The bastard better do it! He's got a child to raise after all, and he ain't letting that girl down on my watch. You'll have one to raise soon too," I added with confidence. "I bet ya!"

"Oh, you bet me?" Bea smirked.

"Sure! For real," I said. "End of the year. If you and Al get a kid before the end of the year, I win. If not, you win."

"Should we really be betting on this?"

"This family fucking bets on anything. This is no time to get moral, Bea."

"Ten Galleons!" Bea said, immediately holding out her hand.

"Done!" I shook it just as Lily and Emma both came shuffling and grumbling into the kitchen.

"Please don't tell me we've made another ridiculous bet," Lily yawned.

"This is just between me and Fred," Bea grinned. She reached out to wind an arm around Lily's shoulders, but she moaned.

"Noooo, no, be gentle with me! I am a fragile being …" she grumbled.

"Quit complain', you woke me up by kicking me," Emma put out there. I wasn't entirely certain she was going to acknowledge me. I wouldn't acknowledge me! But she reached out and nudged my elbow, muttering, "Mornin'."

"Hey."

I was afraid to look at her, in case she was refusing to look at me in return. But I couldn't reasonably stay staring at this wonderful mug of coffee for the rest of my life (although it was certainly tempting to try!) so I glanced over quickly. Just for a second, I caught her eye. Oh my god. This is getting crazy. Seriously, what would have happened if the others hadn't have been there? If I'd picked literally ANY OTHER MOMENT other than sitting in the middle of a crowded hospital waiting room? I mean, Jesus, Fred, you couldn't have waited until you could actually get her up on the roof of Rose's building sometime? Kissing underneath the stars, now THAT'S the kinda romantic shit I'm talkin' about! And you know, by stars, I mean kissing underneath the angry clouds, smog and London rain.

… Emma's never gonna love me, is she?

"Weird question," she said to me casually. "but did I sleep on you last night?"

"Sorry?"

"I remember I was leaning against the wall, but I woke up near the sofa! I'm sorry if I did, I know I'm kinda bony in places–"

"Naw, Princess, you could never be bony!"

"I got some meat on me, do I?" Emma asked, trying hard not to smirk.

"Uh – I don't mean that you're – you're curvy! But good curvy! How did I end up in this conversation?" I glanced around vaguely as if something would come and knock me out this instant (please?).

Thankfully, Emma was laughing. "I'll go with curvy! Thanks."

"It's fine. Considering we all could've died yesterday, I figured you wouldn't want to wake up with a broken back like I did."

"I'm not sure I'll ever forgive ya!" Emma said. "Oh my god, I still can't believe I literally climbed a building, I'm gonna be having nightmares for months, I hope you realise."

"Aw, shut it. You had fun," I grinned.

"Still. I nearly died, so you at least owe me a cup of tea."

"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes and moved across the kitchen. I banged around with cups so much that I didn't notice that the chattering had died down until I turned and noticed that Bea and Lily were both staring at me. "What?" I asked.

"Emma says 'make me tea' and the waiter says 'yessir'," Lily giggled.

"Damn straight!" Emma said, leaning across the kitchen to slap her a high-five.

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled, shoving the mug of tea in Emma's direction. She took it with a small smile over the top of the rim.

"Mmmm. You made this pretty good," Emma noted.

"It's 'cause I'm a fucking pro by this point, Princess."

"I've missed you complainin' about tea," she grinned.

"Get used to it," Luckily, Bea and Lily had gone back to their own conversation so I was free to lean against the kitchen table alone with Emma. I didn't think I could keep talking with such an audience. I casually bumped her hip with mine and added, "We need to hang out sometime."

"You bet. Anythin' in mind?"

"Just come round whenever," Keep it casual, keep it light. No pressure, Fred! "Just don't get distracted by any wild Chihuahuas this time."

"Oh, I don't make promises! Otis is adorable."

"Yeah, that demon is the reason I don't have pets."

"That, and you kill everything you touch," Emma smirked.

"You've been talking to Mrs Ramsey too much!" I whined.

"Maybe I'll buy you a pet rock?" Emma teased. "I mean, it's pretty hard to mess that up, although I wouldn't be surprised. Does your owl not count as a pet, then?"

"Ravi isn't an owl, he's an embodiment of the devil!" I said. "He's not my pet, I'm his."

"Wow."

"But seriously. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, sure thing," Emma was smiling.

 _Emma was bloody smiling!_

This is it. We'll hang out and it will be ok. We'll be mates again, and she'll be happy and maybe we'll sink down so low onto my sofa watching a movie that we'll practically be cuddling. Oh, blimey. Cuddling. I didn't even think of that. Screw it, I could freak out about that later! We'll be together and maybe, JUST MAYBE, I could try and kiss her again without her running away this time! She would have kissed me back, right? She must've. It'll be fine. It'll be a moment! I'll kiss her and she'll kiss me back and it will set me on fire. It'll burn down to my toes and she'll crawl on top of me and move in ways I've forgotten existed and –

Aaaaand she's still standing in front of me. I really should try and reign this in.

FOR NOW, BITCHES.

"Great! We'll do it."

* * *

"What the actual fuck? I'm not doing it!" I said, aghast.

"Agent Weasley, maybe you've forgotten what having a job entails," Agent Jeffers shot me a hard look. "but let me remind you: you are on call. That means when I give you a case, you take the goddamn case!" My boss ever so kindly threw the file back at me across his desk.

"But–!"

"You're not an Auror yet, Weasley," Jeffers rolled his eyes. "Now go do."

I grumbled, but snatched the file from the desk. I unfortunately knew how this job goes. This meant I was going to be spending my entire night trying to track down a criminal of some kind and blowing off Emma for what had to be the millionth time! No. It wasn't happening. I'd take her on the fucking case with me if I had to, I'm not letting her down this time!

Actually.

"CHANGE OF PLANS!" I yelled the second she answered the door.

Entirely non-phased, Emma just opened the door slightly wider with a snort. "Come on in," she said. She glanced down at her tracksuit bottoms and added, "I take it then I've got to go and get changed?"

"Who needs to stay in? No fun in that!" I claimed. "We're goin' out, bitch!"

"Anywhere in particular?"

"There's this club in Covent Garden where I hear they have 1 Galleon cocktails."

"A cocktail bar? Freeeed," Emma tilted her head back, showing the smooth skin of her neck as she groaned. Slay me. "My head still hurts from Rose's birthday!"

"Humour me."

"Guess these trousers really won't do, then," she sighed, straightening. "Hold up. I'll get changed. Any reason for this new plan?"

"Oh no, no reason," I followed her down the small hallway to her bedroom. Luckily, it appeared that Charmaine wasn't home, since I really didn't think I had the capability to tease her as well today. I hadn't seen Emma's room in so long, that I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been in it. It probably would've been back when we were still sleeping together, which naturally, I try and forget about a majority of the time. Emma went straight to her wardrobe as I carried on rambling, leaning against the doorframe, "I've got a mate who says it comes highly recommended! Only don't order a mojito, you'll be on deaths door two drinks in."

"And this mate of yours," Emma asked in amusement, shifting through her clothes. "They don't happen to have a record, do they?"

"I have absolutely NO idea what you mean–! Ok, fine, the bloke was due in court four days ago," I gave up.

"Fred! If you have to work, it's fine," Emma laughed.

"No way! I haven't hung out with you in FOREVER, and I've been tracking this bastard down all fucking day," I insisted. "He's got connections to this cocktail bar, apparently the Aurors are watching it as a base of operations for drug and potion laundering, that's what this bloke was nailed for. I've gotta go pick him up, but I don't want to waste a night either."

"Wait. Are you seriously saying that you're taking me out into the field?" Emma's eyes lit up.

"What – heeeey, I mean, I'm taking you to a club," I said, hastily.

"You are! Jesus, normally field work for me means breaking into tombs and finding dead bodies," Emma glanced back into her wardrobe. "I'm not sure I've got anythin' to wear for this kind of field work!"

"That, um, black dress at the back there will probably do."

"Ya, ok! Fred, I don't wear that dress outside my flat," Emma snorted, glancing back at me.

"It makes you look hot."

"It's a 'fuck me' dress!"

" _Exactly_ ," I threw back at her. "C'mon, Emma, just put the bloody thing on and let's go. We'll find this guy and I'll arrest him within an hour, then we can go and do whatever you want. Ok?"

"I'm seriously gonna regret this," Emma sighed, pulling the black dress out. She'd worn it only once in my presence, and it hadn't stayed in place for very long. The memory was rather vivid! It was January, I think, and we'd only been sleeping together for like, two months or something. I don't think she'd ever come over wearing anything else other than her work uniform, so her taking off her coat and seeing _that_ dress had been one hell of a shock. I think I'd gotten hard just looking at her. It was incredibly short, the V-neck showing off some quite frankly amazing cleavage and she'd stood there and hastily explained that she was going out with some mates from work later and that the dress was new and that she hadn't realised it was so short, and blah, blah, blah. She might have just stood there in front of me, rambling for a million years, if I hadn't have made her shut up.

"You look – fuckin' – _fuck_ – so hot _–_ " I'd gasped between ferocious kisses.

"So take it off," she'd whispered back.

"I have a better idea," I'd growled before pushing her against the nearest wall and sinking to my knees.

I'd then pulled her underwear down and proceeded to show Emma just exactly how much I'd liked that dress, which is to say, I gave her one of the most intense orgasms of her life (if I do say so myself) … ok, maybe she shouldn't wear that dress. I'd probably die before we ever found the idiot. I nearly said something, but then she was already pulling it on despite herself and I hastily turned around. Christ almighty.

Don't die tonight, Fred.

* * *

"For the record, you do not approach this guy," I lectured, yelling in Emma's ear over the thumping music. "You don't touch anything in this place, you don't talk to anyone, HARDLY EVEN BREATHE! Who knows what the fuck they're cooking up out back!"

"Charming, mate, but you did bring me so that we wouldn't waste the night, remember?" Emma smirked.

"This guy is dangerous, Emma! Seriously–"

"Well, go arrest him, then!" Emma said exasperatedly. "Then we can get cocktails. I'm thinking margarita."

"It's not that simple," I sighed. Turns out that the cocktail bar was quite popular on a Friday night and it was packed with people. It wasn't the biggest place I'd ever been in, but did have many different tables and bar stools to accommodate everyone. Music pulsed throughout the club and to one side of the bar was a roped off area that apparently held a small VIP room. It didn't seem that bad on the outside! Hell, I might've even come in here of my own accord, if I didn't also happen to know that the Aurors had this place under 24 hour surveillance.

"What's not simple?" Emma asked me.

"There's a lot more waiting around in this game, my dear Princess," I pointed out. "I don't even know if he's gonna turn up here, he might be onto the Aurors and realise the place is being watched, I don't know. I just have to wait it out, see what happens. You saw his photo, right?"

She reached into my pocket. Her fingers grazed the side of my thigh as she drew out the small photo. "Andrew Fox," she read the name on the back. "Wanted for possession of Class A illegal potions and the distribution of said potions. Gotcha."

I shivered, eyeing the hand that stuffed the photo back in my pocket. "Keep an eye out. Let's get those cocktails."

I kept to the rule that mojitos were off limits, so we went with other varying flavours. I was actively avoiding staring at her arse as we moved throughout the club to find a place to sit, but it wasn't going very well. I couldn't decide whether letting her wear that dress was a mistake or not! She looked so bloody delicious, I was about to fuck the cocktails and take her against the club wall, but I'm on duty, here. Besides, I had to know if she still wanted me too. At this point, I didn't even care if she never loved me, she just had to want me. PLEASE say she still wanted me!

I might die, otherwise.

Not to be too dramatic, or anything.

"Jesus, this is strong!" Emma coughed at one point, margarita coming out of her nose. "I'm not sure I've got the liver capacity for this anymore!"

"Girl, you're 26, fucking live a little," I rolled my eyes.

"Exactly! I'm not bloody 18 anymore," Emma sighed. We had eventually managed to nab a place to stand at a counter along one wall of the club, since all the seats and bar stools had already been taken up by other people. With barely any space, we were pressed in so close together that it made it difficult remembering to keep looking out for any sign of Andrew Fox.

"Everyone's gettin' too old," Emma was saying. "OH, SHIT, get this – Katie turned 18 the other day!"

"No way," I grinned. "She'll be disappointed I missed her birthday!"

"Why does she love you so much? I've got no idea."

"I'm adorable! I take it you gossip about me, then?"

"She knows everything," Emma rolled her eyes.

" _Everything?_ Blimey, I'm in trouble."

Emma shot me a look, but didn't say anything as she took another sip of her drink. If Katie Terry could still like me after what was no doubt months of her sister complaining about me, then she was either crazy, or I wasn't as bad as I thought! I think I like the latter concept more. "Our birthdays are coming up, aren't they?" I mentioned.

"I still can't believe we have the same birthday," Emma shook her head.

"What're we doing for it? We gotta do something!"

"Giant party. We'll have a joint birthday cake and spike it with rum."

"Good to know you've been thinking about this."

Emma laughed. "Seriously, we can do whatever you want! You invite your crazy as shit family, I'll invite some of the Cursebreakers, and maybe I can convince my department head to let us bring in some mummies. James would go spare, it'd be brilliant!"

"Anything that gets James is fine with me," I grinned.

"And for the record, I have actually been thinkin' about it," Emma mentioned then, fingers restlessly playing with the glass of her drink. "Honestly, for a while there, I wasn't sure you were even gonna be around to celebrate with me."

I sighed. "You know I wouldn't leave you hangin' on our birthdays."

"Wouldn't you?" Emma said. She glanced up, her brown frizzy curls swept to the side of her currently frowny face. "You didn't speak to me for months. How was I to know it wouldn't last until July?"

"So I'm a tosspot. Fuckin' kill me, I deserve it," I insisted. "Emma–"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring up all that shit again," Emma quickly waved a hand between us. "You've apologised a bazillion times, I know, we should just move on from it."

"But you're still thinking about it," I pointed out, frustrated. Had I really fucked this up too much to fix it? "Emma, what do you need? My sworn loyalty to you? A blood sample? A million Galleons? Merlin, fuck, whatever it is, I'll give it to you–"

"Fred! It's ok, just … stop it," Emma reached out and squeezed my arm at the expression on my face. "I don't need a blood sample! All I need is assurance that it won't happen again. Unfortunately, the only thing that can guarantee me that is time, so …"

"Emma," I said, desperately. "Are we seriously ok?"

She smiled, her fingers practically stroking my arm. "We'll be ok, Fred. I hope."

This was it. This was bloody it. She needed reassurance, WELL, I CAN SURE AS HELL TRY AND REASSURE YOU! Nerves were strangling me, but her hand hadn't left my arm and she wasn't looking away. Do I seriously kiss her now? In a cocktail bar that was under Auror surveillance? REALLY, FRED? But if not now, then when? I'd dragged her out with me because I was determined not to waste a day! There was never a right time, you just had to do this shit and hope for the best.

That dress was making me a little hopeful.

IMA DO ITTTTT!

Rather (un?)fortunately, before I could even move, Emma let out a gasp.

"Is that him?!" she cried, pointing across the bar.

"What? Wait – don't point, you crazy!" I yanked her arm back down, glancing over my shoulder and stepping in close to watch from her point of view between two bouncers. Sure enough, I could match the mousey hair and beard to the photo I had in my pocket. Andrew Fox had hit the building! Possibly at the right time, I'm still not sure. I'll get back to you on that.

"Oh my god, oh my god!" Emma was practically bouncing next to me. "This is so exciting!"

"Emma, you're getting excited about a convicted criminal."

"Oh, right," Emma shook her head. "Still! Go get him!"

"I gotta try talking to him first."

"Aw, c'mon," Emma sighed. "You can't just kick his arse first?"

"It's way easier when they come in on their own!" I said. "You try dragging this guy in when he's kicking and screaming."

"Is it bad of me that the thought of you arresting someone is getting me a little hot?"

"Never," I smirked.

"Good," she said back. "Go on, then."

We abandoned our drinks to follow Fox through the club. He was heading for the bar at the back and I pulled Emma along behind me by the hand. However, I was drawn up short when we finally caught up and noticed him talking to another bloke behind the bar. "Oh, SHIT," I exclaimed.

"What?" Emma asked, not letting me go.

"He's talking to Dodge!" I complained. "Goddamn it!"

"Who the hell is Dodge?"

"Apparently he's the bloke the Aurors reckon is behind the entire potion ring, I read up on him in the case file," I sighed. "That's why they're watching this place while working on setting up a sting. He knows Fox got caught and bailed, he must be asking for help hiding him. I go in there arresting Fox, he'll think I'm an Auror. I'm not, but he doesn't know the difference, so I'll just end up tipping off Dodge that the place is being watched and then, the Aurors skin me alive for fucking up their operation!"

"So what do we do?"

"Normally wait some more, but it looks like he and Dodge are still tight," I sighed. "I wait and Fox goes out back to disappear into the night! Stupid Aurors. Why do I want to be one?"

"Mmmm," Emma mused. "You know much about Fox?"

"Only what I read in the case file. Why?"

"Would he be someone to get distracted by a pretty face?"

I clicked straight away. "NOOOOOOOO."

"I didn't even say–"

"NO, NO, NOOOOOOO, EMMA!" I yelled. "No fucking WAY–"

"It'd be easy!" Emma nudged me with her shoulder. "You said I look hot in this dress–"

"Did you miss the part where I mentioned the guy is a CONVICTED CRIMINAL?!" I cried. "You're not going anywhere near him, I don't care how distracting you might be!"

"Right. So exactly how else are you gonna arrest him, then?" Emma asked in amusement.

"YOU'RE NOT DOING THIS!" I said.

"I think you're about to burst a blood vessel."

"EMMA!" I rubbed my forehead warily. "Christ almighty, are you really the same person who was too scared to climb a balcony?"

"It's just flirtin'," Emma rolled her eyes. "I'm good at that! Scaling buildings, on the other hand, is debatable. I'll get him away from Dodge, take him over to that corridor over there – that leads to the bathrooms, right? Then you can come take over. Unless you got a better plan, of course."

"This is serious!" I snapped. "I know he doesn't look like much, but we have no idea how that man could react! He's obviously not going to want to cooperate, he's got back-up here, he could hurt you, and–"

"Honey, I think I can handle men who try to hurt me," Emma threw back.

Fuck.

"I WILL BE WATCHING YOU LIKE A BLOODY HAWK."

She grinned. "I won't let ya down! Wait, wait – how do my boobs look?"

"Divine. Please tell me you've managed to at least stuff your wand somewhere down that dress?"

"I shoved it up the side. It's against my hip, can you tell?"

"Sweetheart, no fucker is lookin' at your hips right now," I rolled my eyes. "Just go do this before I change my mind."

I don't know what was possessing me. This was dangerous on so many levels and if my boss ever found out that I knowingly let a civilian interact with a convicted criminal, he'd have my arse handed to me on a silver platter! But considering the alternatives here, it was better than trying to do the flirting myself AND having Emma even more mad at me. At least it wasn't too hard to keep an eye on her in the crowd; everyone with eyes stared. She went and stood near Fox at the bar, waiting while I hovered nearby. When Dodge moved away, she pounced.

I couldn't hear what they were saying from this far away, but she was incredible. This is the same woman who giggled nervously after sex and once passively let me do anything to her. Hell, maybe I hadn't been wrong earlier, maybe we really had both changed for the better. The Emma I had first met would never have been able to do this! At least it was better than watching her with the bloke from New Years Eve. At least I knew that she wasn't going to sleep with this one.

To be honest, though, I wasn't sure he was going to go for it. Surely he'd be more worried about saving his own skin, hiding from further arrest and getting out of the country, rather than chasing some tail? But Emma was whispering in his ear, curling her hand around his and he quickly yelled out to Dodge across the bar. I heard the words 'be back' and thanked the lord when he led Emma away. She let him, though she glanced back for just a second, frantically searching for me. I waved an arm hysterically and thankfully caught her gaze.

" _I'M SO SEXY_ ," she mouthed at me.

I kind of half groaned, half laughed. I watched as Fox led them away and Emma pointed out the hallway to the bathrooms. They disappeared through the doorway.

I followed about five seconds later.

"I have a warrant for your arrest! Say anything and you're dead!" I yelled wildly, bursting in with my wand in hand. Fox was slammed into the hallway wall before he could even react.

"Ouch! What the hell, man?" he cried.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm skipping the pleasantries – try and alert Dodge in any way, and there will be a fuckton of Aurors descending on this place like bats outta hell! Now hold still, would ya?"

"Oh my god," Emma skipped forward, hand over her mouth. I kept my wand between my teeth as I dragged Fox's arms behind his back, keeping his face pressed into the wall. If we could do this quietly, then hopefully we could get out before anyone noticed and triggered a cavalry!

"Emma, now's not the time!" I said, taking my wand and binding Fox's wrists.

"Wait, who the fuck's the girl then?" Fox complained.

"I'm with him – sorry, mate," Emma said.

"EMMA, DON'T TALK TO THE CRIMINAL!"

"You seriously paid some bitch to distract me?" Fox asked in distaste.

"DON'T CALL HER A BITCH!"

"Mr Fox, as you might've noticed, the agent here is a little on edge," Emma mentioned. "I'd tread carefully."

Unfortunately, I soon realised that the damage was already done. I mean, this was a busy place and the bathroom hallway wasn't exactly private. Apparently, my yelling had attracted the attention of not only the drunk girls waiting for their friend and the couple getting off in the corner, but also one of Dodge's guys. I noticed someone scarper for the bar as I turned Fox around, and at first I thought it was nothing. There were hundreds of people here! But he had made a beeline straight for Dodge, and turned to point in the direction of the bathrooms.

Oh, dear.

"Ok, on second thoughts, we are running," I dragged Fox after me. "EMMMMAAAA!"

"I'm coming!"

We only managed to burst out of the bar, just as the aforementioned fuckton of Aurors appeared out of nowhere.

* * *

Of course, I had done fucked up.

"22 MONTHS OF PLANNING, GONE UP SHIT CREEK BECAUSE OF YOU!" the Head of Vice had lovingly screamed at me for what had felt like hours. "YOU TIPPED DODGE OFF TO THE SURVIELLANCE! WE HAD TO GO IN OR LOSE OUR ADVANTAGE, BUT WE WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON HIM FOR MONTHS YET! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM IS GOING TO WALK OUT OF COURT LAUGHING NOW BECAUSE OF YOU!"

As you can imagine, it was fun! Hell, I was just doing my job, as I _tried_ to explain, but naturally the processing of Fox took a lot longer than normal, considering the other multiple arrests and subsequent more yelling the other vice Aurors wanted to do. At least it wasn't Huntley this time who was mad at me, although he turned up as well! Mainly just to laugh, but still. It was honestly hours before I was finally let go and sent away in disgrace. The Aurors had wanted to take Emma's statement as well at one point, but she had been sent home way before I was. That was probably the reason I had finally trudged back home, only to find her there waiting for me.

"… don't start," I said, warily.

Luckily, she only burst into laughter. "This is hilarious!"

"I'm glad you find my censure amusing."

"You haven't _actually_ been suspended or somethin'?"

"Nah, I didn't technically do anything wrong," I said, dropping heavily next to her on my sofa. "I was just doing my job, but I've got an entire department pissed at me now! I'm not getting an interview at this rate. Hell, my entire application probably won't even be accepted!"

"Maybe don't work for the Vice Division, then," Emma was visibly trying not to grin.

"It's a shame! I'm excellent undercover," I sighed. "And you stop smirking! I'm never letting you do something like that again."

"But I was great!" Emma insisted.

"Maybe, but it wasn't worth the million heart attacks it gave me."

"I liked watching you throw him into the wall," Emma put out there.

"I'm glad," I said, dryly.

"Seriously, though," Emma added. "You got in trouble because you were yellin' too loudly defending me. You didn't need to do that."

"I'm not even going to grace you with an answer in response."

"Seriously, Fred!"

"I'm serious, too," I turned to growl at her. "I absolutely 100% needed to do that."

Emma turned to look at me in response, maybe to defy me, I don't know. But something in her face softened when I met her eyes. My heart had been pounding all evening from a mixture of things, but now it was going solely because of her. She knew I did this all for her. She had to know. I tried to kiss her in a hospital waiting room and dragged her to a cocktail bar after a criminal, all because I was trying desperately to get it right this time. I might've failed miserably, but she has still somehow ended up sitting here next to me. I was tired. I was aching from standing all evening and I had a splitting headache. I should be asking her when she was going to go home.

Instead, I muttered, "You're still wearing that dress. You planning on taking it off anytime soon?"

"Only if you take it off for me."

A beat.

"That was smooth."

"Yeah, yeah, just fuckin' kiss me already–" she whispered before reaching up and pulling my mouth to hers.

Everything was suddenly ok again in that instant. She twisted her fingers in my collar, my hair, anything she could reach. I wasn't gonna piss around, I'd already wasted too much time. I went straight to stroking her mouth with my tongue, wrapping my arms around her. She sighed, her nails raking lightly against my face. My god. When was the last time we did this? A part of me had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss her. She was everywhere and it hurt to touch. Fuck, it felt good.

I leaned back and pulled her on top of me. She didn't break the kiss at all, even as her dress rode up around her hips. Chest pressed into me, she straddled one of my thighs. I got the most satisfying sound of my life as I lifted my leg and she ground herself against it. FUCK. I didn't want this to be primal, instinct; I wanted to actually think about it, let myself feel it as I made her feel good, because I'd never let myself do that before. But she kept grinding against my leg, whimpering into my neck and GIRL, I CAN'T CONCENTRATE WHEN YOU DO THAT! We spent several moments just gasping and whispering small murmurs of encouragement, kissing her with all the desperation I'd been holding in since forever. Hot desire had flooded my brain entirely. We touched with the tentative, but hopeful hands of two people who'd been down this road before. We knew how this worked.

Well, most parts.

"How – how the hell did you even get this dress on?" I eventually complained, realising that I was struggling to find her a way out of it.

"I don't bloody know!" Emma groaned against my lips. Her legs squeezed tighter around mine as I gave up for the moment, my hands wandering down over her arse instead. "For heaven's sake, how did you get it off last time?"

"I didn't! I fucked you against the wall, remember?"

"Oh god–" Emma hissed as my hands snaked inside her underwear. "Wait, _wait_ –!"

She sat up, leveraging herself with her hands on my chest as she moved. She swung her leg over my hips, now pressing delightfully against my dick. _Fucking Merlin_. There's no need to pay me that much attention, girl, you've already gotten that part sorted. She glanced under her arms and squirmed in triumph. "Side zip! Fred, seriously, get it off me–"

"I can't do anything when you move like that!"

"Don't complain, or I won't let you get on top at all," she smirked.

"Yeah, yeah," I sat up as well, Emma now sitting in my lap. Together, we eventually managed to wrestle her out of the dress. While it looked incredible on her, I was more than happy when we finally tugged it off over her head, hurling it to the floor. Jesus fucking CHRIST. I wanted too many things. I wanted her in my bedroom, and I wanted her bent over my sofa. I wanted her to keep doing things with those hips of hers, and I wanted to make her come so hard she'd forget why she ever stopped having sex with me in the first place. But for now, I was going to start with the curve of her breasts. I licked a burning line down the edge of her bra, her fingers threaded in my hair. My hands were splayed against her back, possibly leaving bruises, I don't know. I admit, maybe I wanted to mark her a little. If this didn't go any further after tonight, I had to make sure that she would remember. Hell, it simply _couldn't_ end here, right? I ventured further, running my tongue under the lacy edge and she moaned, but apparently it wasn't enough. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing it far across the lounge. I wanted to take her whole in my mouth, but apparently she had other ideas.

"Take me to bed," she whispered.

Oh, I fucking did.

It's different when there's emotions and shit. Or maybe it's just different when it's Emma, I don't know, it's been a while ok? She consumed me, with glee and with satisfaction. In return, I devoured her. I'd forgotten how much better it could be with her than literally anyone else I had ever been with, because it was just so familiar by this point. I accidentally laughed when we had to stop to argue over positions (for the record, we took turns). I interlocked our hands by her head, kissing her as I drove in as deeply as she would allow. She squeezed my fingers and more than matched the pace. The first time we'd ever been together was good, but it had nothing on now. Not after everything.

Not after falling in love with her.

She didn't actually move for ages after. Of course she had ended up on top, but even once our breathing slowly went back to normal and I was soooo fucking dead, she didn't move at all. She kept her face buried into my neck just below my ear, her arms still tight around me. "Are you alive?" I asked her in amusement.

"Barely," her muffled voice said.

"Good. Me too."

"I don't think I can move, but I gotta pee," Emma whined and I sniggered.

"Well, I sure fucking missed this."

She grumbled and groaned, but she did eventually manage to peel herself off me. I let my head follow her as she went to the bathroom, a ridiculous smile probably on my face. I felt like I'd been bloody steamrollered; _happy_ , so fucking happy, to the point of delusion. I wanted to stay that way, but the longer she stayed in that bathroom without coming out, the more Panic Mode started slowly seeping in. I mean, ok – my plan was working! Step 1: kiss Emma, was officially completed. Hell, I think I just skipped several and went straight to whatever step was 'have wild sex'. But I didn't have a step that came after that! What the ever-loving fuck do I do from here? We've always either been just friends, _or_ having sex. Never both at the same time! How do you even start a conversation about this? Was she ever actually going to come back from the bathroom? Or would she just clean herself up and leave?

THIS IS WHY I'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE!

When she finally walked back into my room stark naked, she snorted. "You look terrified," she pointed out.

"Meep," I managed to squeak.

Any concerns about her packing up and leaving were at least diminished then, as she smiled and dived back onto my bed. She landed with a _thump_ half on top of me. I protested as she kneed me in the gut a little, but she moved until she was comfortably lying next to me. "Relax, Fred," she told me. "I liked it, too. It's been a while."

"Do you mean for us, or in general?"

"For us," Emma nudged me with her foot. "I think it's been, what? Over a year?"

"Blimey, has it seriously?" I asked. "I didn't realise it'd been _that_ long."

"You still got it."

" _You_ still got it," I said back, watching her face as it lay close to mine. "It's pretty damn late, since I got yelled at for about 38 years at work. You gonna go home, or what?"

She opened her mouth to reply but instead, a giant yawn came out. I tried not to laugh so much and instead, clambered out of bed to start picking up clothes and to dump my duvet on top of her. I turned my bedroom light out, before trudging warily throughout the rest of my flat, trying to find the various articles of clothing that we'd stripped off earlier. After gathering everything in my arms, I went back to my bedroom only to find that Emma was already passed out in my bed. All I could see was a foot and the top of her frizzy head.

It was the best thing I'd ever seen in my life.

Look, I don't know what I'm doing, here. There's no way I'll pretend otherwise.

But I got back in bed with her anyway.

* * *

A/N: ASFSGAHAHHAHHHS  
Look, the road is long, but they've finally made it to this point and I am so proud of my precious babies! Although please be assured that this is far from the end of the story. I'm not droppin' the mic just yet, lol. I love them and apparently you guys love them too, so thank you so much for getting me to the point of 250 reviews(!). It's incredible. You're all incredible!

PLEASE LIKE THIS, I HOPE YOU LIKE ITTTT!

Also: I do not claim to have insider knowledge about bail enforcement/police/detective work, so naturally I've just been doing my best this whole story so far (my only experience is that I watch a lot of cop shows, lol). So if you happen to be a bounty hunter/police officer and are also reading this fic, then first: you are cool and I want to be your friend. And second: tell me all the knowledge! Please and thank you. x

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!  
\- Moon. xoxo


	24. That one time I was terrified

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 24: That one time I was terrified.

For the second time in my life, I woke up with Emma in my bed.

It wasn't like the first time, though. The first time I'd found myself wrapped around her, an arm over her waist as she spooned into me. Rather unaccustomed to the different methods of cuddling, I'd freaked myself out pretty damn quickly and wrenched myself away before I could really think about it. This time … I woke up with her elbow in my face. Just great, thanks Emma. I reached up and carefully shifted her arm off me, realising that my duvet was also half ripped off and on the floor. Emma was wearing an old t-shirt of mine and literally nothing else. I couldn't decide whether it was better or worse than the dress.

What the fuck had last night even been? I wasn't kidding when I'd said that I hadn't thought this far ahead! I had no idea what was happening … all I knew was that I wanted her. I just wanted all of her, in any way possible, all the bloody time, and I hadn't exactly wondered what I would do if I ever managed to kiss her again. Hell, I was banking on a kiss being enough! I hoped, but I never _actually_ thought I'd get to sleep with her again! An explosion of panic was hitting my brain, although it still couldn't quite pull me from my own bed just yet. I never thought I'd make it this far, but I did. We did, and last night had been … I am never having sex with anyone else.

 _Whoooooa_ , FUCK.

THAT thought hit me with about the same amount of force that the Head of Vice Auror had used to yell at me! But it was true, I knew for a fact, lying there next to her and watching Emma sleep in my bed, in my clothes, that I was probably never going to sleep with anyone else ever again. Unless something went abysmally wrong and I managed to fall out of love with her, but let's face it, I've been trying to do such a thing ever since we met, and HAS IT WORKED? _No_ is the answer we're looking for! So it was simple. As long as I loved Emma, sex with anyone else was never going to happen. It wouldn't be worth it. They could be the hottest human alive, and I still would only want her. _Holy shit_. HOLY SHIT. Who even was the last person I'd slept with before this, anyway? I couldn't even remember! _Who even am I?!_ I'M NOT FREAKING OUT, YOU'RE FREAKING OUT–!

FRED. Mate, you need to calm your shit.

Look, if I could somehow eventually come to terms with how much I loved her, then _surely_ I could come to terms with this as well? Emma had forced me to reconsider my life far too many times already, but considering the fact that we've made it this far, to this point, then I think it was maybe worth it. I could reconsider a little bit more, right? Besides, technically, I'd already done this. I'd done the regular sex thing with her, so what exactly would be the problem doing in it again? The only thing different was that I wasn't afraid of falling for her now! Yes, I could confidently do that. I mean, if she wanted to. Shit, did she want to? What if she DIDN'T want to?!

She moved then and I honestly thought that the screaming in my head had been loud enough to wake her. Luckily, she was still completely out of it, burying her face into one of my pillows. One of her legs bumped mine and it felt simultaneously like too much and not enough. Granted, one thing that was very different this time around was that now, I knew her. Back when we were first sleeping together, we barely talked at all. Hell, I didn't even know how old she was until we actually became friends! I'd always been terrified of people getting to know me so well, when they can see past your walls, your fronts and saw straight into who you were. I don't know why it scared me so much. Maybe I'd just grown up too often seeing how badly it could potentially hurt you if things went bad. But Emma already knew every side of me. Like, I literally considered her one of my best friends at this point! Sleeping with her again didn't really have to change anything at all, right?

Fact No. 1: I could do having some kind of interpersonal relationship with someone.

Fact No. 2: I could do sex.

SO THEORY: surely, I could do both at the same time?

She stirred next to me again, jarring my thoughts from sound reasoning, back to Panic Mode in about point five seconds. COOL IT, FRED. You can do this! Emma mumbled a moment, stretching, and she accidentally hit me in the face.

"GIRL, SERIOUSLY?" I whined.

"Oh, shit!" she said, glancing over at once. "I'm sorry, I just hit you didn't I?"

"Just a punch to the face," I grumbled, rubbing my nose. "Nothing I haven't handled before."

She sniggered a moment, rolling over onto her side so that we were face to face. Her leg pressed even more into me then so I lifted one of mine and trapped hers between my knees. She didn't seem to mind, and quite honestly, it was comfortable lying there with her, our legs tangled. She yawned and asked, "What time is it?"

"9.04am, apparently," I answered, glancing over her head at my alarm clock.

"Thank god it's Saturday. Wait – it IS Saturday, right?"

"I'm fairly certain."

"Good. I'm not going to be awake for another hour, then," Emma mumbled happily. However, she paused a moment and opened an eye to peer up at me. "Uh, I mean, unless you like … want your bed back?"

"Oh, don't worry, I expected you to steal my bed," I said. "I'm a bit more confused about how you managed to steal my t-shirt, to be honest."

"I got cold," Emma admitted. I reached out and tugged on the hem a little at her words, which she also didn't oppose to. "Sorry."

"What was wrong with your clothes?"

"You kiddin'? I'm never wearing that dress again!" Emma scoffed, gesturing vaguely to the rest of my bedroom, to where the aforementioned dress had been sacredly laid down with the pile of clothing I'd picked up the night before.

"Please say you're joking."

"It's the most uncomfortable thing I've ever worn, Fred."

"It's probably my favourite item of clothing that you own, Emma," I threw back.

She smirked a little, but hid it behind her hair. "Well. Maybe I'll crack it out occasionally, then. In the meantime, can I borrow somethin' to get me home in?"

"Well, you've already stolen my shirt, so–"

"For Merlin's sake," She rolled her eyes. "I'll give it back!"

"I was kidding! Jesus, Emma, keep it for all I care."

"Seriously?" she asked. At that, I hastily pulled away from her, jostling her legs and swinging myself out of bed to avoid addressing _that_ statement. Smooth, Fred. I went straight to the pile of clothing and found her underwear, tossing them across the room at her.

"There!" I called over. "Hang on, you can steal some track suit bottoms or something …"

"Fred?" Emma had clearly noticed me constantly moving about my room, first finding the trousers to give to her, then turning my lamp on and off and opening and shutting my curtains in quick succession. Her eyes followed me as she slowly dressed. "Are you … all right?"

"What? Oh, I'm spiffing!" Blimey, _spiffing?_ What the hell does that even mean?

"Ok," Emma snorted. "For what it's worth, thanks for letting me crash here."

She makes it sound like we had a fucking SLEEPOVER. What are we, 12?

"Like I had much choice. You were basically already asleep."

"Says the one who used to always fall asleep on me," she smirked.

" _That was one time_ –! Just … just get dressed," I gave up, rubbing my forehead.

I was dreading the moment she actually left. Terrified if she stayed, terrified if she went! What was I supposed to even do, anyway? Was I supposed to kiss her? Shake her fucking hand? WHAT? Saying goodbye as friends usually consisted of me yelling, "SEE YA!" at her as she pulled the finger at me, but it felt like we were a little bit past that now. Eventually, I settled for somewhere in between, which was still yelling see ya, but also awkwardly punching her arm. She smiled back.

"Yeah. See ya, Fred."

* * *

I had work to do. I had a flat to clean. I had pissed off Aurors who kept sending me owls, requesting my statement again down at the office and I was swearing and grumbling under my breath as I spent the entire morning hastily running around my flat, but literally all I could think about was her. What did it all mean?! Will we _actually_ see each other again after this? Oh god. Why did we have to start on my sofa? I can't even look at my sofa anymore! So of course, I ended up staring at it hard for several minutes, trying not to remember my mouth on her breasts, her legs tight around me …

YIKES, Fred. Keep it together.

I was on the verge of completely blitzing it when Ravi swooped in with what was no doubt yet another angry owl. I sighed, reaching up to finally answer one, only there was a knock at my door. For the several seconds it took to launch myself across my flat to answer it, I could only think _what if she's come back? Stop it, it's not her. Maybe it is. She probably just forgot something. BUT what if she didn't? What is happeningggg?!_ but then I opened my door.

"I need your help!" Libby cried.

Of course.

"Oh, hello, dear friend who only shows up with her daughter when she wants something," I said. Libby shot me a look from the doorway, apparently letting herself in. Alongside with her was a pram with her Tiny Human inside it.

"I would never!" Libby grinned at me. "Although if you wouldn't be opposed to babysitting, I won't say no."

Sometimes, I'm not entirely certain how I ended up with Libby Fletcher as a friend. I just sighed, gesturing her to come through. She greeted me with a hug and let me say hi to Clara at least, who was currently awake and looking a lot bigger than the last time I had seen her. I paused for a moment as Libby gently parked the pram next to the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. She would flip in disgust if she knew, but fuck it. If we avoided that sofa every time we'd done it there, nobody would ever bloody sit on it! Less Libby knew, the better. I dropped down next to her warily, but luckily, Clara seemed to want all the attention. I played with her lil kicking feet for a moment, Libby happily telling me that she could sit up by herself now and everything. Clara's complexion had always been the clear tones of Libby's dark hair and pale skin, but it was looking like her eyes were slowly going to end up brown like James' someday, which was pretty cool.

"Is she still not sleeping?" I asked Libby. "James complained of nothing but at Rose's birthday! She's what, six months old now, right?"

"She has her nights," Libby sighed. "Other times, James and I take turns crying."

"You said something about wanting me to babysit?"

"Only if you're not busy," Libby said. "I know it's Saturday, but I'm starting work again part time on Monday, and there's a bazillion things I've got to get done before then. Thought you might want to? It would only be for two hours, tops!"

"Exactly how desperate are you?"

"Hey, you're not my last resort anymore," Libby pointed out, nudging me with her elbow. "Remember the first time you babysat? Oh my god, I was so scared to leave her with you!"

"Thanks."

Libby laughed at me. "You know what I mean."

"I was scared too, for the record!" I pointed out. "Hell, I don't exactly have a good track record in looking after this girl. You're forgetting that I was the one who nearly killed her."

"Dramatic much?"

"I'm sorry, you saying that she isn't still allergic to peanuts?"

Libby rolled her eyes. "You didn't _nearly kill her_ , her reactions aren't life-threatening, just severe. Fred, you arsehole, stop beating yourself up and just say you'll look after her already!"

"I'll look after her," I sighed.

"Thank you!" Libby wrapped her arms around me once more and I snorted, shaking her off. Clara squealed and Libby turned back to her. Clara was protesting, holding out her hands and Libby leaned forward to unstrap her daughter and lift her out of the pram. She hauled the little girl in her arms. "I know, I know, the adults aren't paying you enough attention …" she said to Clara, wrapping an arm around her bottom and holding her up high. She kissed her tummy and Clara actually laughed, which I thought was kinda hilarious.

"Aw, look! It's Mum-Libby!" I said.

"Shut up," Libby grinned, glancing over at me as Clara tugged on her hair. "I swear, half the time I don't even feel like one. I'm just some woman who was handed a baby and told to raise it. Kind of like a pet dog, except that she communicates a little better."

"Pffft. C'mon, Lib, you're an amazing mother," I pointed out.

Libby smiled. "Sometimes I forget that way deep down, you're not as emotionally constipated as you make yourself out to be. Hey!" she added to her daughter, as Clara had hit the sides of Libby's face with her pudgy hands. Libby looked up at her reproachfully, but (of course) Clara just giggled. "That hurt!"

"Gaaaaaaaahhhhhh."

"Yeah, yeah. You want to say hi to Uncle Fred?"

Libby pointed me out and Clara turned. I honestly wasn't expecting any kind of reaction. A lot of the time you could wave anything in front of her and she wouldn't be interested unless she could eat it, but Clara started babbling some more and pointing at me. I sat there, astonished, as Libby laughed. "Yes! That's Uncle Fred! Oh my god, are you starting to recognise him?" Libby let me take her as Clara was reaching out with her arms towards me. I hugged the little girl to my chest and she pulled my hair.

"Ouch," I protested. "Clara!"

She just continued tugging at me but hey, I didn't really mind much. The baby recognises me! I can't even begin to explain how brilliant that felt, to have this tiny six-month-old thing look at me and know me as a person who maybe looks after her sometimes. I wonder if she's thought of random names for everybody in her life, since she can't exactly speak yet? She probably calls me Lunatic or Crazy Man Who Let Me Lick A Knife, but whatever. I tickled her side and she positively shrieked.

No matter what insane Emma shit is happening in my life, Clara always seems to have the ability to make things better!

"Aw, we'll have fun today, won't we?" I told her, before glancing back at Libby. "Don't you worry, we'll be fine."

Libby was grinning. "Thank you again, Fred, seriously! If you want, you could take her to a park or something? I know the weather's kind of shit at the moment, but it would be something to do?"

"Sounds fine. We'll see you in two hours, ok?"

"Don't let her have any peanut butter this time," she teased.

"Shut it, Lib," I said. I took one of Clara's hands and waved it in Libby's direction, adding, "BYE MUM."

Libby laughed as she bent down to say goodbye to Clara. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding once she was about to head out the door. Honestly, for a second I didn't even know why! However, as I placed Clara gently on the floor so that she could happily play with Simon, her soft toy unicorn, I noticed my sofa again and remembered. I was so certain for a second there that Libby was about to confront me about Emma. I mean, who didn't these days? And come on, if Emma was going to go and talk to someone, it would be her, right? Libby could have burst in here yelling, 'YOU SLEPT WITH EMMA!' and I literally would not have been surprised.

But amazingly, it appeared that I was going to get out of this conversation!

Well. Kind of.

"I think you've got everything you'll need," Libby was saying distractedly, riffling through her bag in the doorway. However, she looked up and gave me a sudden pointed look. "Unless there's something you wanted to mention?"

SHE KNOWS.

How my brain flips from 'I got away with this' to 'HOLY FUCKING SHIT' in less than a second is astounding. But just that one look from Libby Goddamn Fletcher was enough to make it clear that I was wrong, this woman somehow knew everything! She couldn't still be asking about Clara in that moment, right? There was too much behind those eyes of hers. Those eyes knew things, SHE HAD TO KNOW! I gaped slightly, trying to figure out something to say, but my throat was stuck. Oh my god. HELP.

 _HEEEELP_.

"Uh …"

"Never mind," Libby quickly cut in, shaking her head. "Clearly, you've got it covered. I trust ya! BYEEEE, CLARA!"

* * *

" _Clearly you've got it covered_?" I said again about twenty minutes later. "Literally, Clara, what the actual fuck is your mum on about? Because I swear I don't know half the time!"

We were lying down in the grass of Regent's Park. There were a million smaller parks closer to where I lived, but I'd felt like getting about as far away as possible, so I'd braved the London underground with a baby in tow all the way here. I hadn't realised exactly how many stares I was going to get, especially since it would be obvious from our skin tones that Clara was not my own baby, so what's this youngish adult bloke doing with a six-month-old? But luckily, I could keep most of my faith in humanity since I didn't get a single accusation of kidnapping her and instead, got a small group of teenagers cooing at Clara and saying how cute she was.

Honestly, it was a relief to get into the park. There's something about the sun in England where the second it makes an appearance, it suddenly brings everybody out scurrying from their offices and homes. We're the opposite of cockroaches! The sun is so rare this time of year (hell, even during summer as well) that the moment it appears in the sky, London's parks are suddenly flooded with people sunbathing during their time off, ties sitting wrinkled in the grass and office workers kicking a football around in their business suits. I lay with Clara under the shade of a tree, her baby bag under my head and said baby lying on my stomach. She held Simon in her hands and peered curiously around her on my chest as I spoke about things that were way beyond her comprehension, but hey, this is my partner in crime we're talking about. She always gets me!

She sucked her unicorn's head as I continued on, "She knows, my young friend. She knows everything! I swear, it was just from the way that she looked at me, I just know it, she has managed to figure it out somehow! I mean, Libby and Emma are best friends, so actually this shouldn't surprise me in the slightest. Of course Emma told her everything, I'm an excellent lay!"

I watched Clara as I thought about it. I mean, of course I wouldn't blame Emma at all if she actually had told Libby. Shit, I swear that her and James were our very own personal confessional booths by this point. But what had Libby meant? _Clearly, you've got it covered. I trust ya!_

"I don't even trust me," I told Clara. "Would you? Who was Libby even talking about at that point? I'm about to smash my head into that tree over there, Clara, I really am."

"Ahhhhh."

"You don't have to sound so pleased."

Clara kicked her feet a little.

"Ok, so you're telling me to get over it. Fine, for now, there won't be any head smashing. But seriously, _what did she mean?_ Have I really got this thing covered? Because I swear I don't know what I'm doing. I have no plan! I haven't had a plan from the moment I met Emma, but apparently I loved her too much 'cause I just carried on anyway! Fuckin' love. Don't ever do it, Clara."

She squealed.

"Don't worry, girl, you're still my number 1," I snorted as she went back to contently chewing Simon. The breeze was ruffling her tuft of black baby hair and it was adorable. "I really do mean that, that I love you the most. You know that, right? Hell, I keep asking you questions as if you'll coherently answer me," I rolled my eyes at myself. "Can you imagine in the future when you can actually talk back? I'll bet you never shut up. You've got 'dramatic' written all over you, and besides, you're a Potter, right? With James as your dad, you never stood a chance. You'll constantly talk, all the time, to the point where we have to teach you not to interrupt and how it's not appropriate to tell Mrs Ramsey that her dog is annoying."

I wondered if James and Libby thought about this much. I mean, if I did, then they probably obsessed over it. Did they ever imagine what kind of person Clara would eventually grow up to be? I imagined her forcing me into fairy wings and to play with her inside her blanket fort. Clara would pretend that she has no idea how to control her magic before she hits eleven but secretly, she'd figure out how to bypass the security on the fireplace and Floo to Al and Bea's house to play with their kids when she knows she's not allowed. She'd go to her first concert and get drunk and be too afraid of what her parents would say, so she'd call me. She'll have mates, and she'll love her parents, but I'll be the one she feels comfortable asking all the embarrassing questions to. I'll be her best friend.

And she'll be mine.

"You hear that, missy?" I asked her. "Best friends. Forever. Ok?"

She wiggled around a little, causing her to accidentally drop Simon from my torso to the grass below us. She whined when she stretched and couldn't reach him. "Yeah, yeah," I said, picking him back up for her. "You still haven't explained your mum's thinking. Does Libby really know anything? DO I KNOW ANYTHING?"

I sighed in frustration. I didn't understand why this had to be so difficult!

"Ok. So I slept with Emma. You don't know what that means yet, and that's ok, give it several years. But what do I do from here? Do I owl her? Treat her like nothing happened? Please don't tell me I have to talk about it, I don't think I'm ready for that."

Clara actually glanced at me then, and I could've sworn her expression said, _are ya bloody kidding me, Uncle Fred?_

"Aw, come on! I admit it, I am so fucking in love with her that I would commit actual crimes, but it's incredible I've even managed to make it to this point! I'm afraid, Clara. Wouldn't you be?"

Clara wriggled some more in response, so I gently sat up, taking her with me before depositing her on her tummy in the grass by my side. She seemed content to have more room to move about and I stayed sitting up a moment, leaning back on my hands as I glanced down at her playing. Oh, to have the baby life!

It had been roughly five hours since Emma had left me this morning, and I already missed her like crazy. Last night had been a tease, a glimpse of what I used to remember and it hadn't been enough. I hadn't let myself remember in so long, but it was all suddenly flowing back to me now, which maybe wasn't appropriate for this innocent park, but fuck it. I remembered the times when she would take over, pushing me to the floor and climbing on top of me. I remembered us arguing right in the middle of sex once over exactly how fast it took her to come (she'd proven me wrong in the end, but that wasn't the point). I remembered pulling her to the edge of my bed and making her shake with my head between her legs.

Hell, I even let myself remember the first time we ever slept together on Halloween! How she had nervously giggled and hadn't been able to get those tight jeans off without my help, how I'd somehow felt something since that night and yet managed to wave it off until it eventually became impossible to ignore. That night had been incredible. It was impossible to deny that we'd fit together well, and while there might have been a false start or two, it had been so immensely satisfying that I hadn't cared. We'd only gotten better as time went on and I craved having that again. I wanted to have her in any which way possible, if she would have me in return, but I didn't know how to bring any of that up without expressly having to say the words, "Emma, I want you."

"I don't fucking know. Clara, tell me what to do. Clara?" I glanced over once more, only to find that she wasn't currently next to me like I assumed she would be. I glanced around in confusion, but didn't notice her at all. Wait. Fuck. Where the hell was she? I sat up quickly, looking behind the bag, around her pram. No sign! There was no way in hell that she would have wandered off, right? She couldn't even crawl, let alone walk! … _right?!_

Oh shit. I realised that I actually had no idea what kind of mobility this baby I was looking after had. I hastily lurched to my feet and ran around the tree we had been lying under, as well as checking our immediate surroundings another 50 billion times.

Absolutely nothing.

FUUUUCCCKKKKK.

Immediately, I lunged for the bag. Praying to Merlin that I had remembered to pack it, I yelled in triumph when I fished out my cell phone. I didn't even have to think twice about who to call.

"I THINK I LOST CLARA!" I yelled.

" _Fred?_ " Emma's voice said. " _Hold up – Katie! Pause it, apparently I've got an emergency on the phone! I DON'T FUCKIN' KNOW YET – ok_ ," she came back to the phone sounding sceptical, but at least somewhat interested. " _What the hell is going on?_ "

"What's Katie doing home?" I asked, distracted.

" _Easter holidays – Fred, seriously?_ "

"Shit – shit, shit – I think I lost Clara!" I said in a sudden panic again. I was still staring around the immediate vicinity of the park but holy fuck, she wasn't anywhere in sight! "I'm at Regent's Park babysitting, and she was literally right next to me, but I guess I looked away for a bit or something, because I looked back down and she was FUCKING GONE! _GONE_. HELP ME, EMMA–!"

" _Ok, don't bloody panic_ ," Emma said at once. " _You said you're at Regent's Park?_ "

"In that garden place in the middle, there's tonnes of people here, oh my god, what if someone took her? HOW THE HELL DID I MANAGE TO LOSE HER?"

" _Don't do anything stupid, I'm coming! KATIE – HENRY – get your shoes on!_ "

Thank the fucking lord for Emma Terry.

Incredibly, she and her siblings actually managed to turn up within a minute. Either someone was charming the underground to magically zip people around the city in minutes, or Emma had just illegally Apparated the three of them into a bush. The latter scenario seemed more likely, which said a lot considering that this was the same woman who had been too scared to illegally Apparate home after a one night stand. She must love Clara as much as I did!

"Fred!" I heard her call, and I was greeted with the sight of the Terry siblings running towards me across the lawns of Queen Mary's Gardens. "We're here! Tell me what happened!"

"Oh, thank god," I sighed as they skidded to a halt next to me. I couldn't even contemplate seeing her, or the fact that Katie was waving at me with a mischievous smile. No time for that! "I don't know what happened, I just looked down and she was gone! We were over here–" I gestured behind me to the crumpled up blanket (crumpled, because I'd ripped it up out of the grass in the vague hope that there would be a baby under it) and the bag and pram. "I don't know, she's just GONE! I don't know what to do, James and Libby are gonna kill me and–"

"She's here," Emma said firmly, cutting over my rambling. "Don't panic. She'll be here, we just need to find her. Guys," she added to her brother and sister, who both snapped to attention. "Spread out! We're looking for a six month old baby by the name of Clara, start asking people!"

The siblings thankfully didn't question this random twist their holiday from school had suddenly taken. A baby's life was at stake, here! Oh Jesus, I felt sick. What if she actually HAD crawled off somewhere? She can recognise people, sure, but does she have the strength to move herself yet?! I DON'T BLOODY KNOW, LIBBY, THIS IS THE KIND OF THING YOU TELL THE BABYSITTER!

Christ almighty. First I poison her with peanut butter, then I go and straight up lose her!

"Thank you for coming so quickly," I told Emma about a minute later, after moving through several groups of people on the lawns. Nobody seemed to have noticed anything, of course. I shut my eyes as I tried to stop my head from screaming, taking a deep breath, but it wasn't working very well.

"Fred, of course I came," Emma said, at once. She prised my hand away from my eyes, making me look at her. "Hey. We will find her. She's a baby, she couldn't have gone far."

"But what if someone took her?"

"You would have noticed. She was right beside you," Emma said firmly. "It's gonna be ok."

I hadn't even thought twice in ringing her. She was just the first person I'd thought of over literally anyone else. Now, I was kind of second guessing myself as to whether that had been a good idea or not, but she didn't seem as awkward as I thought it might've been. She was reassuring me, squeezing my fingers slightly before letting go and I was just incredibly grateful that she was even here.

 _Where the hell is Clara?_

"Oh, sorry love, I haven't seen her," a woman said regretfully at the next group we stopped by to ask. She sat with what looked like her colleagues and gave me an apologetic look. "She a young one?"

"Six months."

"Blimey!" the woman exclaimed. "Oh, do try to not worry, she probably just crawled off somewhere. I've got kids myself, and trust me, you guys aren't the first parents to accidentally lose one. She's small enough that she should be here somewhere!"

"Oh, but we're …" I began, but a look from Emma told me that there was no point trying to explain that we weren't Clara's parents. It would just take too much time and energy. "Never mind. Thank you. If you notice anything, let me know."

"She's right, though," Emma pointed out as we moved away, dejected. "I'll totally bet ya that James and Libby have accidentally lost Clara at some point! Wait," She stopped dead and I nearly ran into her. "Maybe a stupid question. But have you considered the possibility that she's using magic to hide from you?"

"I … haven't," I admitted.

Considering that James had mentioned the Dancing Vomit Incident, we knew that Clara was probably capable of such a thing. How had I not even considered?! We immediately ran back to where I had been lying with her, Emma calling out across the lawn to her siblings. They were closer and beat us to it, but I yelled at them,

"HOLD UP! Tread – carefully! She might be invisible!"

We must have looked utterly ridiculous. It was like we were wading through a see-through swamp or something, shuffling our feet gently and spreading our arms through the grass, trying to see if we could touch her. No doubt the entire lawn of people were staring at us and I think I caught Emma laughing at one point. Mind, this wasn't exactly the craziest thing I've ever done. Blimey, Clara, why did you have to have to be so good?! Suddenly, I heard a noise and Henry was the one who called over,

"Merlin, she's in the bloody bag!"

With much yelling, we all suddenly dashed over to see Henry lifting a fussing Clara out of the goddamn baby bag. "Ohhhhhh, shit!" I cried, taking her thankfully from Henry, relief crushing my entire body. "Clara, Clara, oh my god, don't ever fucking do that to me again!"

It appeared that she had crawled away into the baby bag and concealed herself somehow as she fell asleep, explaining why I hadn't seen her when I'd torn the entire park apart looking for her. OH MY GOD, that was the most terrifying fifteen minutes of my life! I nearly sobbed as Clara snuffled against my shoulder, shoving her hand into her mouth sleepily. I pushed my nose into her hair happily, kissing her head. "I can't believe she was in the bag the whole time," Henry was laughing his arse off. "That's fucking hilarious!"

"Henry," Emma scolded.

"What?" he shrugged.

"She's so cute!" Katie was dancing alongside me, pulling faces at Clara. "Aw, can I hold her?"

"How – how about we wait until my heartrate has gone down a bit, yeah?" I asked, faintly.

The five of us ended up sitting down in the grass together as I eventually handed over the dozing Clara to Katie. She seemed happy at least to coo over her for the time being, Henry rolling his eyes next to her, but also waving a finger every now and then in front of Clara's little nose. I took a deep breath, rubbing my eyes as Emma sat next to me.

"Stop it," I groaned, my hands still over my face.

"Stop what?"

"I can tell you're laughing without even looking, stop it!" I said. I dropped my hands only to see Emma burst into hysterics out loud.

"Sorry! Actually not sorry, Henry was right, this is fucking hilarious," she giggled.

"I lost a six month old baby!"

"Exactly! Oh, god …" Emma leaned her elbow casually on my shoulder a moment as she laughed, probably without even thinking about it. We caught each other's eye and she pulled back just as quickly. "Just wait until James and Libby find out," she added.

"If you know what's good for you, James and Libby NEVER find out about this."

"Aw, c'mon, you gotta tell them that she managed to magically conceal herself!" Emma insisted. "Their baby is showing signs of magic before she even hits a year old! That's pretty damn impressive."

"They'll never let me look after her again!" I pointed out.

"Pfffft," Emma rolled her eyes. "Like I said earlier, they'd never admit, it but I'll bet that they've managed to lose her before at some point. Don't worry 'bout it, seriously."

"Thanks again," I said quietly. "For coming."

"You were yellin' at me down the phone, did I really have a choice?" Emma sniggered.

"You know what I mean," I said. "So, like … yo, Katie? Henry?" I called over and the brother and sister glanced up. Merlin, it was weird seeing how similar all the Terry siblings looked! Same textured brown hair, same shape face. I could almost imagine that this was what Emma had looked like as a teenager! … actually, let's not imagine that right now, my poor, poor heart wouldn't be able to take it. "Thanks for your help, guys. You all right with her still?" I added to Katie.

"Yeah, she's such a sweetie," Katie grinned, Clara now napping apparently in her arms. "I still can't believe we ran around the entire park tryin' to find her, and she was in the bag the whole time!"

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled. "You guys on holiday, then?"

"Thank the loooooord," Henry nodded.

"I only got one term left after this!" Katie agreed. "Then, it's FREEEEDOM!"

"Yeah, first you gotta try GETTIN' A JOOOOOB!" Emma called back in the same sing-song voice.

"Shuddup," Katie wrinkled her nose at her sister. "I'll think of somethin'."

"You know what you want to do?"

"Nah, not exactly," Katie shrugged. "But then again!" she added, glancing down at Clara. "I guess I could work with children, righ'?"

"Like a teacher?"

"Yeah, maybe in early childhood?" Katie shrugged. "I dunno if they have magical courses for that, though. I might have to go to a Muggle university."

"YIKES," Henry glanced at her.

"I know!" Katie complained. "But hey, it's an idea. Ems said you're gonna be an Auror?"

"Hopefully," I answered, glancing at Emma next to me. Of course, the girl gossips about me to her sister, how could I have forgotten? Katie probably had a stack of blackmail material and I'd never have any idea what it was. Maybe I best stay on her good side. "I haven't applied yet, but I will soon."

"WAIT, you're the bloke who's a bounty hunter, right?!" Henry burst out excitedly.

"That's me?" I said apprehensively at the sudden enthusiasm.

"MATE, you gotta tell me how you got into it, it sounds so cool–"

"Henry, haven't you tested my nerves enough the last sixteen years?" Emma asked exasperatedly.

Henry snorted and leaned across the grass to swing an arm heavily around his sister. He might be ten years younger than her, but he was already taller (not that that was pretty hard to do) and much stronger. Emma complained, but she laughed as he trapped her under his arm, squeezing her tight.

I snorted as Emma accidentally jostled me, Katie stroking Clara's cheek gently in the background.

I guess I could always count on the Terry's in a crisis.

* * *

I ended up handing Clara back over to Libby at the end of the two hours only off-handly mentioning the whole 'disappearing' thing. "Like yeah, I think she used magic to conceal herself? 'dunno," I'd shrugged, trying not to make it sound like a huge deal. "Thought I couldn't find her for like, ten seconds or whatever. Pretty cool, though."

Libby had been happy to hear such a thing and was also none the wiser, so my work was done! I also hadn't quite known how to say goodbye to Emma when it came time to leave her at the park. It was almost worse than this morning since her brother and sister stood only several feet away, and my head had screamed at me, _say something, say literally anything you bastard!_ Eventually, just as she had said, "I'll see you, Fred, yeah?" and made to leave, I'd ended up darting forward and catching her sleeve.

"Hey, um–" I'd stammered. "Come over tonight?"

She'd been silent for about the worst 2.8 seconds of my life, until she'd said,

"Yeah, that'd be great. I'll uh, see ya later once I send those two idiots back to our parents' house," she'd added with a thumb pointed over her shoulder at Henry and Katie (the latter of which who blew me a kiss in farewell).

So somehow, I had managed to work it so that she was going to come over! COME OVER.

 _Come over_ …

Wait.

WHY THE FUCK, FRED.

What had I meant by 'come over'? Did I mean come and hang out with me 'cause we're trying to fix this after me acting like a douchebag for so long, or did I mean come over and have sex with me? _Jesus fucking Christ_. Hadn't I had enough emotional hurdles the last 24 hours?! Besides, how am I supposed to clarify whatever we were anyway, when I don't even know what the hell I'm doing yet? The thought of her coming over again tonight was petrifying, but I was even more scared of sending an owl and telling her never mind, don't bother. I felt like I was stuck in some crazy, screaming limbo, where we were dangling right on the edge of something here. I could choose the safe path and step back … or go and throw myself off the edge.

Stepping back might hurt less, but perhaps I'd always been a daredevil?

"Dad, did you ever lose me at some point as a kid?" I asked vaguely.

"Lose you?" Dad repeated and I nodded. "Blimey, Fred, I dunno. I can't remember."

"Bullshit, you don't forget that kinda thing," I called him out.

Dad shot me a tired look over the kitchen table. I hadn't expected him to be here, to be honest. I'd come home because I'd realised that I didn't have any food as I'd been rather the busy the last couple of days (climbing buildings, losing babies and sleeping with Emma really does take up your time) so I'd crashed in hopes that I could steal a bit of whatever Mum had made. Turns out, though, that Mum was working late and it was Dad who was cooking tonight. Rather unfortunately, as my dad's cooking did leave a lot to be desired. Resigning myself to the last packet pasta that I was pretty sure I still had at the back of my cupboards somewhere, I'd nearly left, but Dad had somehow roped me into conversation.

"How's my favourite son?" he'd asked me cheerfully.

I'd scoffed, but ended up answering him anyway and somehow, that lead to me helping him chop vegetables. "Ok, so maybe I remember accidentally losing Roxanne once," Dad admitted to me, then.

"So you never lost me?"

"If you ask your mum, she'll be able to tell you a spectacular story about how she lost you at a beach in Cornwall!" Dad snorted. "You were only about two. Roxie was five when I lost her at the supermarket. She wandered away and got lost in the refrigerator section. I panicked for several minutes until I heard her screaming behind the stacks of butter."

"Oh my god," I laughed.

"So who'd you manage to lose?" Dad accused with a grin.

"FINE, Clara," I sighed, as if he'd had to drag it out of me. "I took her to the park today and the little bugger went and turned herself fucking invisible or something. Scared the shit out of me!"

"I think that's every parents' worst nightmare," Dad noted with a laugh. "Don't worry, mate, you're not alone there."

"Thank god," I said. I glanced up over the potatoes then and noticed that my earlier observation of Dad looking kind of tired apparently hadn't been wrong. His face was drawn, eyes dark, and I ended up asking, "Yo. You're ok today, right?"

Dad's voice when he answered was gentle, but then again, it always is. For years he's never wanted to scare us, never wanted us to worry about him. It was mum's job to take care of him, not mine or Roxanne's, but surely we were way past us pretending not to notice anymore? "'course. I'm fine, Fred," Dad insisted. "It's nice to see you at home as well! You never visit anymore."

"I – totally visit!" I said.

"Yeah, ok. When you want food."

"Can you blame me?" I asked. "Mum's cooking is to die for!"

"Oi, what about mine?"

"I was all prepared to leave, but you conned me into peeling potatoes," I smirked. "Look, I'll visit more some other time, ok? I can't exactly stay tonight, I got a … uh, thing."

I was about 99% certain that Dad read straight through that, but whatevs, I wasn't telling him a thing! If he wasn't going to let me into his life, then I didn't need to explain anything about mine. If he was about to start waxing poetic on me, then he had another thing coming! I saw the look on his face before he even spoke, and I pointed my knife at him, saying,

"DON'T."

"Don't what?"

"Whatever you were going to say – don't!" I said, chopping a potato rather viciously in half.

"Fine. I was gonna ask what classifies as a 'thing' these days, but maybe I'll just keep my thoughts to myself …" Dad grinned at me.

"If I knew the answer to that question, Dad, I probably wouldn't be calling it a thing," I grumbled.

"So is it a romantic thing?" Dad asked innocently. "Or are we talking something illegal, here?"

"DAD."

"No to drugs?" he suggested. "Good, good! So it's something romantic, then. I thought you weren't into stuff like that?"

"I'm not – I'm not talking about this!" I complained. "Just drop it, 'cause I'm not saying anything!"

"OK, blimey," Dad held up his hands in defence, rolling his eyes. "I'll let you go do your thing, no questions asked. I can't guarantee I won't be interrogating Roxie for answers later, though!"

" _Roxieeee_ …" I practically growled. I was gonna have to have words with her, and all.

Luckily, my dad got when to stop pushing, and he let the rest of cooking go without another comment. Honestly, I had no idea what I was gonna be heading home to. We hadn't specified a time, so I was kind of going off our centuries old routine from before, which meant she could very well be waiting for me at this point. I actually found myself stalling as I aimlessly searched for a plastic container to hold the beef pie Dad and I had made. What if she didn't show? What if she did? What if she thought we were just hanging out? There were too many things that could go wrong! It was too difficult to process, too scary and I really thought I was going to end up cancelling on her.

But it's difficult to say no once someone's already arrived.

I Flooed back to my flat, but I found myself staring at my front door one too many times. She wasn't coming. Or maybe she was! On a hunch, I marched determinedly down the hall before I could change my mind. I opened the door – and Emma nearly fell inside.

"God – sorry!" I managed to grab her arm as she yelped. Thankfully, she didn't hit the floor as I helped keep her upright. She laughed shakily as I said, "I didn't realise you were right there – I uh–"

"Nah, nah, I shouldn't have been leanin' against it like that!" Emma insisted as I closed my front door gingerly once more. "Sorry. I, um, didn't know whether to just Floo my way in or not, so I …"

"It's fine. To Floo in, I mean," I shrugged. "Hell, aren't we prone to breaking into each other's flats by this point?"

"I s'pose that's true," Emma smiled.

Hey, at least she wasn't wearing The Dress, _amiright_? Then, I really would have had an aneurism!

"It's … been a weird day, right?" Emma asked me as we sat down together. I wasn't entirely sure how far away to sit and I deliberated for several frantic seconds, before deciding fuck it, press against her and see how she reacts. I don't think she was expecting me so close as she jumped a little when I dropped down beside her, but she didn't pull away. She had a foot tucked up underneath her, the other dangling over the side of the sofa, the knee knocking into mine. She curled in so that she was facing me and she felt warm. Like Emma. It was these small moments that made me flip completely and wonder why I was worrying so much about it.

"It's definitely been a weird day," I answered. "Not bad, although I'd certainly like to forget that I ever lost Clara at some point."

"You found her again!"

"Yeah, yeah," I snorted. "Katie and Henry get home ok?"

"They drive me bonkers, I swear to god."

"They're cool."

"They also like you," Emma noted happily. "Thanks for talking to them, by the way. I think they think of me as this sophisticated woman who has her life put together because she's older and has a job, but really I've got no idea what I'm doing. I think they like talking to someone else my age."

"Does Henry seriously want to be a bail agent?" I asked.

"Lord, please do not encourage him!" Emma groaned. "The second he heard that's what your job was, he's talked of nothing else!"

"Sorry," I grinned.

"No, you're not," Emma grumbled, poking me in the side. "but thanks, regardless."

"Well, when you think about it, today probably wasn't the WEIRDEST day we've ever had …" I began, but I slowly let my words trail off, because we both knew exactly why it had been weird and neither of us had managed to bring it up yet. Just this morning she had still been in my bed and now, here she was again! Damn, I was about to combust from just sitting next to her. How do we talk about this? How were we supposed to figure out anything about this? I was desperate for answers, but couldn't say a word and eventually, Emma peered up at me in amusement and said,

"Fred, you look terrified."

"That's …" I looked straight back and sighed. "because I am."

"Good. I'm terrified as well," she said.

"Well, what do we do then?"

It became clear that really, Emma didn't know what we did from here either. I forgot that she was basically as in the dark as I was. There was no defining whatever the fuck it was that we had between us. I had no rules in mind this time, I didn't have anything planned out. I was acting off pure desire and winging it, here.

So I made the decision. I kissed her, determined and passionate, as I dove straight off that edge.

Merlin help us, I'm taking Emma with me.

* * *

A/N: YOU GUYS ARE INCREDIBLE!  
They are building something together and I'm so happy and Fred and Clara are so cute, and I love Katie and Henry AND I AM BESIDE MYSELF, OK?! Thank you so much, I cannot express how much it means to me that every chapter you take the time to tell me what you think. x

This chapter is late and it is probably shit bc workworkworkwORKWORK, I'm so sorry. BUT PLEASE, I HOPE YOU MANAGED TO LIKE IT, PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU LIKED IT!

Basically, I have finally nearly left my au pair job now. I leave England in less than 2 weeks(!). I'm pretty sure that this is the last update until mid-Oct, 2016. ( _I cries_ ). So 1: don't worry, this story will eventually be finished! 2: maybe I'll update from some random country, who knows. 3: I care about Fred and Emma so so much, and I cannot wait to write the rest of their story.

Thank you. I am gonna miss you all so much.  
I LOVE YOU ALL!  
\- Moon. xoxo


	25. That one time I cuddled

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 25: That one time I cuddled.

 _Internal screaming_.

I did a lot of it, considering that the next couple of weeks were gonna be some of the most thrilling, daring and terrifying weeks of my given life! Rather unfortunately, I did not suddenly become some smooth motherfucker with roses between my teeth overnight. In fact, rather than eventually squashing the part of me that kept screaming, it turns out that I was just throwing him aside every now and then and I was so scared of that moment I knew was coming, where I wouldn't be able to shut him out any more.

Because I didn't have a plan. I didn't know what we were establishing. I mean hell, we literally talked about anything _except_ what we were doing! It was a friendship, it was sex and it was probably something close to what I was refusing to call a relationship, because WHOA, DUDE, ONE EMOTIONAL HURDLE AT A TIME, OK? Jesus, what more do you want from me? I spent the first several terrifying days being on edge, petrified that Emma would want to talk about it. It was an entire weekend where we didn't leave my flat, but we still somehow managed to walk tiptoes around each other. I wanted to ask about a lot of things, one of which being if she was going to stay the night again at one point, but I honestly couldn't get the right words out. In the end, I'd just kissed her for the lack of knowing what else to do. Eventually, in between the periods of mind-blowing sex, it turns out that my strategy was to speak about a hundred miles a minute about absolutely nothing. I think my reasoning was that perhaps if I kept talking, then she wouldn't be able to get a word in and then BOOM, problem solved!

But finally, on Sunday night, my nerves caught a break. We were in the kitchen, making the last tea/coffee round of the day as I rambled, her watching me in bemusement from over the top of her mug. I leaned a hip against the bench, regaling her with yet another unimportant story from work.

"… and that was about when Jenny crashed in!" I said enthusiastically, waving my hands a little. "I didn't know who in the hell she was at first, because she was raving like a lunatic and I was only supposed to be there to arrest her husband but then there was the thing with the giant fish so–"

 _Clatter_. The mug was placed roughly onto the bench as she reached up and suddenly pressed her lips to mine.

"Mmmfpt – wait, I didn't explain about what happened to the–"

"Fred," she whispered. The hand she had reached out with was in my hair, the arm curled around my neck. She kept her forehead close as she massaged my scalp with her fingertips. I gulped slightly. "Look, I mean this in the nicest way possible, _but I don't giva fuck_."

Shit. _Shit, shit, shit._ This was it, she was finally going to say something. She had finally gotten sick of me rambling the last couple of days and was going to say what she wanted to say. Ask what she wanted to ask.

 _What are we? Do you love me? I love you. Is this a relationship? Do you feel the same way about me?_

Oh, would you look at that, I can barely breathe.

I was bracing myself for the words, not knowing what on earth I was going to reply with, when she took me by surprise. She pulled my head back down to hers and kissed me again, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. _Jesus_. She was unrelenting, a kiss that obviously meant she wanted it to lead somewhere. She added her other arm around me, pulling herself close. Emma always sizzled at the touch and literally everything went south thanks to that kiss, making me forget entirely what I'd just been thinking.

She pulled away slightly to whisper, "As you might've guessed, I really don't wanna talk anymore …"

Thank god. I picked her up, her legs locking around my waist and I turned, shoving her up against the kitchen bench. She whimpered into my mouth at the motion, biting down on my bottom lip gently before getting a little rougher. I didn't intend on things escalating right there – my poor kitchen was probably tired of us abusing it by this point, and the kitchen table never had quite looked the same since the night of James' birthday party – but Emma burned when she was wrapped around me like this. Things quite severely escalated against my better judgement, until the tea was forgotten and our bodies connected in all the right ways.

"Emmaaaa – _fuck_ – Emma, I don't think I thought this through–" I moaned against the skin of her neck at one point. "This – this can hardly be sanitary–"

"Christ, Fred," Emma reached up and tugged on my chin, bringing her lips to mine. "I told ya to stop fucking talking!"

Ok. I finally stopped talking.

That was the moment where it became clear that perhaps, I shouldn't worry so much. Perhaps, Emma was just as determined to avoid talking about this as I was! Maybe it should have concerned me that she didn't want to mention it, because I'd been so certain that she would in that moment. Like, seriously, why didn't she want to address the fact that we were sleeping together again? But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Sure, I'd never done something like this before, but also remember that the last time Emma had, it had ended with her sanity and self-worth barely intact. She was a hot mess about as much as I was, and that thought was at least a little comforting.

Thankfully, sex was never awkward between us. It hadn't been for a long time and it was the one thing I could count on. I barely understood everything that I was feeling, and I didn't know what was happening between us or what would happen in the future … but I could always count on her being able to fuck me into oblivion. There was no adjustment period this time. There was no self-consciousness or fumbling or hesitation. We already knew. Sure, it's never perfect 100% of the time, but we didn't have to spend days agonising over that one time one of us accidentally farted anymore. It was good between us. Really good.

 _And I was happy_.

I'm not kidding! Those days eventually turned into weeks and honestly, I was so fucking happy that I didn't even know what to do with myself. Emma made me feel a lot of things, petrified being only one of those, but she also made me the happiest I think I've ever bloody felt in my life, and that said something. That's when I knew that whatever the fuck this was, no matter what happened from here, this was something life changing.

I try not to think about it too much.

"Would you stop looking at me like that? I fear you're about to break something," Emma said to me at one point during May, when we had both met up for drinks at the _Flash Dragon_ for Yael's birthday.

"I can't help it!" I muttered back. "I swear, they all bloody know!"

"Know what? They know nothing," Emma snorted. "Seriously, chill the hell out, these are just people you work with."

"Emma, these are mates of mine!" I cried. "Don't you remember Sapphire? Oh, sweet baby Jesus, she's gonna take one look at me and–"

"FRED. Relax!" Emma insisted, clamping her hands on my shoulders and shaking me slightly.

"Yep," I gulped. "I'll, uh, just do that."

She rolled her eyes, turning away from me, probably in disgust. I don't know. I don't seem to know much of anything, these days. I hadn't even expected Yael to do anything for his birthday, much less invite me to it, but Kayla had caught me in the office earlier and said that they were all just meeting up for drinks later today and that I should come if I wanted.

"How are you guys?" I'd asked her quickly in the corridor.

"Yeah, I'll let you know after a pint or two," Kayla had answered.

So clearly, Reddale was still in the wind! He was certainly playing his cards right, I'll give him that. But tonight wasn't about commiserating over that son of a bitch! No, it was about Yael turning whatever the hell age and me wondering why in god's name I'd thought it was a good idea to bring Emma with me. I guess I had realised that if I didn't bring her, I'd no doubt be owling her later anyway when the hour was early and my mind was less than sober, and I think she would prefer this over the alternative. Still. She was wearing jeans that she'd accidentally left at my flat three days ago and contently sipping from a drink that I'd bought for her. She was the fucking hottest thing in this place and it made me want to die sometimes, but _I'm good, I'm goooood_.

"Where is Sapphire?" Emma asked me then, nudging me with her elbow to bring me back to her. "I've met her one or twice before, right?"

"Once. Worst experience of my life," I grumbled.

"Yeah, right," Emma smirked. "Wait, that was when you drunk owled and I actually came over, only to have you pass out on me, right?"

"Did you not hear me say that it was the worst experience of my life?"

"Blimey, I think that was like, nearly two years ago," Emma mentioned. "Have we really been fucking up for that long, Fred?"

"Apparently."

She grinned up at me. "Seriously! Where is she?"

I sighed. "Come on, Princess. I have no doubt that she's busy drinking her way through the entire bar."

My predictions were naturally correct. The two of them ended up greeting each other with hugs, Sapphire shrieking happily that it was great to see Emma and immediately getting roped into a conversation. I shook my head in amazement as I left them to it. I guess I kind of needed the breather, since it was starting to get a little surreal to have her here. I guess I hadn't thought about it, but I realised that she'd been slowly but surely infiltrating my entire life from the moment I'd met her, until this point now when suddenly, she was everywhere!

And it was scary to think that I was sort of ok with that.

I watched her and Sapphire talk from the bar for a moment. I was so ridiculously in love with her, of that I was at least still very certain. If I didn't know a fucking thing, I did at least know that. It wasn't going away, like I might've thought it would this time last year. It was growing, spreading like a disease and hell, I was goddamn welcoming it! Every time she came round when I didn't even need to ask, every time she rolled me underneath her and did wicked things with her mouth, every time she was still there in the morning, I fell a little bit more. I'd accepted that fate by this point, but the difficult thing had been accepting that just maybe, Emma had made that same decision.

"Blimey, you must be thinking hard!" Yael's voice cut in over my thoughts, cheerfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Happy birthday, bastard!" I threw back at him. Yael just laughed before throwing his arms around me.

"Another year that I'm still alive! Real achievement that, considering," Yael said as I clapped him on the back before pulling away. He leaned against the bar next to me and noticed where my eyes were straying.

"Holy shit, you actually brought her!" he said in utter surprise.

"Yeah, I figured it was better to have her meet you guys under my own terms, rather than get to the point where she was committing crimes just to get arrested by you."

"Are you serious?"

"Eh, I wouldn't put it past her."

"I honestly cannot believe that you actually brought her here," Yael said, shaking his head in delight. "She looks cool! Does she already know Sapphire?"

"They've met before," I said.

"Oh, man. Where's Kayla? She's gotta come meet her, too!" Yael glanced around vaguely, but he appeared to have lost his partner somewhere deep in the depths of the pub. He hung his bearded head dejectedly and I laughed.

"She'll be around! Emma's not going anywhere."

"Sometimes I wonder," Yael muttered.

"TRUST ME, Emma would have forced her way into this party if I hadn't have–"

"Thanks for the assurance, but I was actually referencing Kayla," Yael sighed. "She hasn't said anything to you recently, has she?"

"About what?" I asked in surprise. "I've asked her how she's been lately and I assume it's been hell like usual, but–"

"Hey, mate, forget about it. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get into it," Yael certainly looked like he was turning a year older today … though maybe ten years was more accurate. His eyes were lined with concern, his beard starting to get on the wild and unruly side. I eyed him in confusion before asking,

"Get into what?"

"Look, you ask her how she's going, she'll say she's fine," Yael eventually said. "but the truth is she's tired. We both are, but I'm not … she's talking about leaving."

I carefully tried to come up with something to say.

"… I mean, damn," I winced. "That's huge, right?"

"HOW, HOW COULD SHE?" Yael suddenly burst out. Ok, apparently he was more hurt by this than he was letting on and was simply waiting for a safe space to get it out! Knowing that I'd done my fair share of screaming, I let him have it. "How could she even CONSIDER leaving when there's still so much left for us?! I'm not stopping until that bastard is either dead or in Azkaban, but it's like she's giving up! Tried to tell me that we weren't even living at this point, that we were just existing and waiting for something that might never happen. She doesn't want to do that anymore, APPARENTLY!"

"Uh, mate?" I began warily.

"I know – I KNOW – I'm sorry," Yael whined again, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know why this is suddenly getting to me now, she's been talking about it for a while. Maybe it's because it's my birthday. Another year without catching him, or whatever."

"Maybe a stupid question, but have you actually tried talking to her about this?" I asked.

"What the hell do you think?"

"MATE," I said.

"OHHHHH NO, don't you 'mate' me!" Yael accused, waving a finger in my face. "Mr Commitment Issues, who refuses to even acknowledge the fact that he's totally dating someone! You couldn't have a serious conversation about emotions even if you were held up at wand-point, so don't you get on at me about talking to her about it!"

"I can TOTALLY have a serious conversation!" I said, coughing.

"Oh, yeah?" Yael smirked. "Call her your girlfriend! Right now, I DARE YOU."

My mouth gaped for a moment, but eventually I managed to counter back, "Shut the fuck up!"

"My point stands," Yael grinned.

"FINE, I have no place in telling ya to talk to her," I grumbled. "but you know that absolutely nothing else is going to do anything, right? You love Kayla! This isn't just about her leaving the Aurors, it's about potentially losing her, isn't it?"

Yael groaned, leaning an elbow on the bar and burying his face in his hand. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, I'm apparently the Love King now!" I said cheerfully, punching him on the shoulder. "Tell me all."

"I don't know what to say! She's leaving, and I can't do anything about it."

"Bullshit," I scoffed. "You've always said that you don't have time for each other, and honestly, I get ya! But like, you need to straight up find out if she's leaving because of you, or if it's because she's sick of the job, and you're not gonna find out sitting on your arse at the bar."

"You mean the whole 'talking to her' thing again?"

"YES, the talking to her thing again!" I said exasperatedly. "I mean, honestly! I don't care if I'm being hypocritical, TALK TO HER, tell her to stay, tell her you love her, I don't fucking know, just tell her SOMETHING–"

"Like it's so easy," Yael complained.

"At least I told a girl that I loved her."

"WHEN YOU WERE DRUNK."

"HEY, NOT THE POINT!" I yelled. "Like, can't I get just a little credit, here?"

"And what good did it do you?" Yael pointed out.

"Sure, she turned around and said that she was seeing someone else," I rolled my eyes. "Yes, as a result, I will probably never say it again for the rest of my goddamn life, but the point is that telling her actually did something! If I hadn't have told her, we probably wouldn't even be speaking right now, so whatever crazy shit might've happened as well, it doesn't matter. It's worth talking to her, Yael."

"Who are you and what have you done with Fred Weasley?"

"I kidnapped him. You'll never find the cellar in which I have him locked away," I deadpanned.

Yael snorted with laughter, but turned his agitated and forlorn face towards me, the tattoos stretching on his neck. This was a man who was at the end of the line and didn't know what to do (I get the feeling, mate, truly). "What if …" he whispered, then covered up the rest of what he was going to say with a gulp of his drink.

"What?"

He sighed. "What if she _is_ leaving because of me?"

"Well, think," I rolled my eyes. "You done anything to piss her off lately?"

"We've been good!" Yael insisted. "Well, as good as we can be. Ever since Reddale escaped, that was the first time she brought up the idea of leaving and I brushed it off. It came up again once or twice, but I never thought she was actually serious."

"Did it occur to you that maybe she's hoping you'll ask her to stay?"

"C'mon," Yael scoffed. "Why wouldn't she just ask what I think?"

"The same reason you're refusing to talk to her now!" I cried. "Because you're two emotionally stunted screw-balls trying to hunt a serial killer! She's tired, she's gotta be, but she's probably waiting because she won't quit unless you say it's ok!"

"But I HAVE been saying it's ok!"

"Fucking Jesus …" I muttered, slamming my head against the bar.

"Oi!" Yael exclaimed as I grumbled, throwing his arms into the air. "What am I supposed to say in response?! Of course I'll support her in whatever decision she makes, what kind of idiot would I have to be to say no, your opinion is invalid? She says she wants to leave, so of course I'm gonna say I'll support her in whatever decision she makes!"

"Oh, that's a bullshit answer if I ever heard one," I said.

"What?"

"It's a cop out! You're not saying stay, you're not saying go, you're trying to leave the ball in her court when she's clearly already thrown it into yours," I said, almost laughing by this point. "Yael, mate. You and Kayla are all each other has. Don't fuck this up!"

Yael stared at me a while. I didn't know where the bout of wisdom was coming from, but it made sense in my head, and hey. Like I said earlier, I'm the Love King! His brain was clearly working intensely behind those eyes and beard and he stared until eventually, his gaze strayed to somewhere over my shoulder. I turned to follow it and noticed Kayla. She spoke to Sapphire and Emma, the three girls apparently giggling and laughing together. Kayla's auburn hair stood out amongst them and it was clear that Yael's mind was made up when I turned back to him.

"What do I do?" he asked fiercely.

"You tell that girl that she doesn't quit without you."

He didn't even finish his drink. He slammed it down without another word and stormed around me. I hastily ran after him, trying to get the girl's attention wildly behind his head. "KAYLA!" I tried yelling without actually yelling. Yael approached steadily and determinedly, winding his way through his own birthday guests until he reached his partner.

"Yael!" She was startled as he ran up to her. "Hey–"

"Happy birthday!" Emma said cheerfully. "We haven't met yet, I'm Emma–"

"Hi – yes! – so sorry," Yael said distractedly as I finally rocked on up. "Thank you for coming, I promise I'll introduce myself properly soon, I just gotta do a thing first–"

Emma leaned over and hastily muttered in my ear, "Whaaaat is going on?"

"Uh … you'll see."

"Kayla," Yael spoke determinedly to his partner. "Stay."

Kayla stared at him a long moment. Quite honestly, with the lack of context, I didn't think she was going to catch on, but then again, the two of them always did seem to be able to communicate with unspoken words. Unfortunately, Sapphire was staring between them in confusion and burst out,

"She ain't a dog, Yael."

"SAPPHIRE," Yael squeezed his eyes shut. "Just for the next few minutes, could you please not?"

"I know what you meant," Kayla said, softly. He opened his eyes to look at her. "You said you'd support me no matter what decision I made."

"Yeah, well. I changed my mind," Yael said. "Please, stay."

"You're … you're asking me not to leave?" Kayla asked. I think she looked touched, or at least Emma seemed to think so, since she had rested her head on my shoulder with a slight 'aw' sound.

"Either that, or we both leave together!" Yael nodded firmly. "I don't care. Reddale, all of it … none of it fucking matters anymore. We've risked our lives enough times, we've dedicated enough bloody years to this, we've done more than our fair share. I honestly don't care what we do, so long as we stay together."

"Yael," Kayla sighed. "You know that you could never leave the Aurors, not with him still out there."

"I could. I would, if that's what you wanted."

"I'd never wish that!" Kayla said. "Yael, I couldn't make you leave any more than you could ask me to stay–"

"YES, I can!" Yael cried. Emma and Sapphire exchanged looks as I continued to watch with wide eyes. "Kayla, you talk and talk about it, but never actually do it! It's like you're waiting for something, waiting for me to do something about it, to try and talk you out of it – so this is me, asking you to stay, because I want you on this with me. I want my partner, Kayla! I want us to stay together, I don't – want to lose you–"

"Yael–"

"Look, if it turns out that I read this wrongly and you actually do really want to leave, then that's fine too! I'm leaving as well," Yael just ploughed on furiously. "because this isn't about the work anymore, and you know it."

"Don't–"

"We both know it," Yael thundered. "We haven't brought it up in a while, but it's always there: I love you, and you love me, but we never fucking DO anything about it!"

"Christ almighty," Sapphire said, eyes wide as she watched with glee.

Kayla's face had gone bright red, Emma tugging incessantly on my shirt sleeve like I didn't already hear the exact same thing she did. I wasn't sure if Yael had been intending on bringing THAT up, but Kayla certainly hadn't been prepared for it! She shuffled her feet, glancing quickly at the rest of us as her cheeks burned, and she whispered, "Yael, this isn't the time–"

"Hell, it's NEVER the right time for us!" Yael exclaimed, hands gesturing wildly. "It's either you're not ready, or I'm not ready, or there's too much shit going on or we're too busy trying to catch Reddale – I'm sick of us still trying to make excuses."

"We're not doing this here, in front of our friends–" Kayla began to thunder.

"OBJECTION," Sapphire cut in. "I have no qualms."

"Just sayin'," I added.

"FRED," Emma cried.

"What?"

Kayla turned and shot us all a look. Quickly, the girls and I had to pretend to notice something several feet away, Emma pointing vaguely at nothing and myself dragging Sapphire after us. I guess I forgot that not everyone was like the Weasley family and was willing to have uncomfortably personal conversations in front of everyone else! Nobody else thankfully seemed to have noticed the intense discussion that Yael and Kayla had seemed to have gotten into, so we piled together at the end of the bar, pretending that we weren't trying to listen.

"But I want to know what happeeeeens …" Sapphire was whining.

"Oh, quit it," I snorted. "If they can barely talk to each other, what makes ya think they can talk in front of other people?"

"What'd you even SAY to him to make all that come out?"

"He was being ridiculous. Might've given him a nudge or two."

"You?" Emma smirked.

"Don't you look at me like that!" I accused, pointing a finger at her. We were pressed in close together as the three of us were leaning as far across the length of the bar as we could feasibly get away with to still try and listen in. Sapphire hung over my shoulder, balanced on a bar stool while Emma stood in front of me, her back leaning against the bar so as not to be blatantly facing the partners further down. She glanced up at me with that smirk and I would have kissed it away if Sapphire hadn't been hovering over us.

"Lookin' at ya like what?" Emma asked.

"I know what I'm doing, I'm not completely emotionally inept!"

"Coulda fooled me," she rolled her eyes.

"You tell 'im, girl," Sapphire laughed, although she hadn't taken her eyes from Yael and Kayla. She gave a frustrated sound and added, "We're too far away! I can't tell what either of them are saying …"

The three of us tried to stay silent a moment, but even though we were only a couple of feet away, there was just too much ambient noise. The rumble of voices throughout the rest of the pub, the clinks of glasses, the not-so-soft music playing, it all added up so that while we could hear that they were indeed speaking, their voices didn't carry far enough that we could make out actual words.

"Anyone know how to read lips?" Emma asked dryly.

"Or the innate art of body language," I added.

"Only you, Fred," Sapphire snorted.

"Well, surely we can interpret some things," I said. I gestured with a hand, saying, "Look at 'em. She seems a bit embarrassed to me, and he looks like he's about to cry."

"Yael ALWAYS looks like he's about to cry," Sapphire pointed out.

"But they're smilin'," Emma added, watching from over her shoulder. "They're smilin', right?"

"I don't know, some idiot with a big head's gotten in the way–"

"Wait, climb up here–"

"I'm not standing on the bar just to spy on your mates!"

"GIRLS?" I said, vaguely. "I think Kayla just kissed him."

"WHAT?!" both Emma and Sapphire cried, but it was hard to tell because of the stupid group of birthday guests who'd taken up a spot at the bar right between us and the partners. I could have sworn I'd seen small Kayla step up and sweetly kiss Yael's bearded face, but I'd lost sight of them behind all the people! "Oh, fuck this – c'mon!" I pulled away from the girls, grabbing each of them by the hand and dragging them after me through the pub.

When we reached Yael and Kayla, they had their arms around each other. Her hands were clasped around his neck, forehead pressed to his, neither of them saying much of anything. They just stood together, his arms around her waist, and I swear Emma squealed slightly.

"Contain yourself," I muttered into her ear, winding an arm over her shoulders.

"Shut up," Emma smiled up at me.

'Course, Sapphire took a slightly different approach. She stole a small bowl of salted nuts from a nearby table and started pelting them at Yael and Kayla. "GROOOOOSS! GROSS!" she yelled.

"Saph!" I protested as Yael and Kayla both jumped in shock, protesting as Sapphire continued her assault. She just laughed.

"Don't worry, we're all secretly thrilled," I called over.

"Girl, quit it!" Yael complained, holding up his hands to shield himself.

"You're adorable and it's disgusting!" Sapphire instead starting eating her nuts as Kayla shook her head, apparently trying fishing a nut out of her bra. "Please tell me you're gonna stop being ridiculous?"

"I'm not leaving the Aurors just yet," Kayla said, shooting Sapphire a look but there was amusement in her eyes.

"We got shit to do," Yael added, gazing at her fondly.

"That's great and all, but could you like, kiss again?" Sapphire asked. "We kind of missed it because Fat Arse over there got in our way–"

"Fuck off," Yael answered. "How about you wish me happy birthday and buy me a drink instead?"

"Ehhhhh," Sapphire rolled her eyes. "Only 'cause I like you."

"And you're Emma!" Yael added, hastily moving forward with his hand outstretched. Emma offered him her hand from the arm that wasn't currently around my waist as he said, "Sorry, I was distracted earlier – it's great to meet you finally!"

"You as well!" Emma grinned.

"Like I said, she would've committed crimes if I hadn't have brought her," I said, squeezing her shoulders.

"How many times do I have to tell ya to shut up?"

"You got more than one way of doin' it, Sweetheart," I threw back at her. "Or did you forget?"

"WHO WANTS ALCOHOL?" Sapphire suddenly yelled from the bar.

Everyone turned towards her, moving forward to say what drinks we wanted. But Emma had turned her face towards me as she stood there under my arm. "I didn't forget," she whispered with a smirk, before kissing me swiftly.

… I think I just died a little.

* * *

So the days continued.

I honestly hadn't thought that establishing a routine of some kind would be so damn hard. Probably because many parts of it were already so familiar, but turns out that there was also a lot of other shit to think about. Like, I hadn't expected Emma's kiss in the middle of the fucking pub, because we don't do PDA shit! We never have, right? I mean, yeah, maybe we groped each other a little if we'd been drinking, but we'd both had perfectly sound minds in that moment, and she had just gone and kissed me with no warning! To be fair, nobody had actually seen, as everyone had been busy heading for the bar. But it was one thing to throw an arm around her and another entirely to kiss me deeply for several seconds.

But eventually, that's how things progressed between us. We wouldn't do it until suddenly, one of us got brave enough to cross the line. Now, I can ask her if she's staying the night. She never has to knock before coming over anymore. We're both ok with walking around naked. She can steal my t-shirts and not give them back. We have conversations. It's more than just sex in the dark with the lights off, this was truly something I'd never done before. We laughed. We still talked like we always had, before anything ever went pear-shaped, about work and our families, about ridiculous conspiracy theories, or coming up with crazy stories about my neighbours.

"Otis is NOT the goddamn Reddale killer," Emma argued back at me once, making toast in my kitchen one morning.

"Think about it! The demon is certainly evil enough–"

"But with that logic, Mrs Ramsey is knowingly harbouring a serial killer."

"Maybe not knowingly! Maybe he's been an animagus this whole time and that's why it's been so hard to catch him!"

"You'd think Yael and Kayla would have figured out if he was an animagus by this point."

"They've been so busy staring at each other, I'm surprised they even managed to arrest him in the first place," I waved that off.

Emma turned back over her shoulder, throwing me a smirk. "It's hard to take your theories seriously when you're still standing there in your underwear."

"You're not complaining about it."

"Did I say I was?"

I just shrugged. "Let me convince you."

"You're not convincin' me of anything this morning, I've gotta get ready for work!"

I just sauntered over as she turned to place the butter knife she'd used in the sink. Before she could face me once more, I quickly wrapped my arms around her, pressing close against her back and crushing her against my chest. "Freeeeed …" she muttered as I started kissing down her neck lightly. She still held two pieces of toast in her hands, refusing to let go. "Stop it, or I'll be late!"

"Eh … be late then," I muttered against her skin.

"Nooo, no, I'm never late, everyone would ask questions and …" But I'd found a spot under her ear that she liked and I knew that I was slowly winning. She still refused to let go of the toast but sighed slightly as I worked my mouth slowly over her. One of my hands snaked up her body and under my t-shirt that she'd been wearing as pyjamas. "Ohhhhh, fuck you …" she groaned.

"Admit it! Otis the Chihuahua is the Reddale killer …"

"I hate you."

"Oh, sorry! Would you prefer that my hand to go south instead?" I whispered, moving it softly down her body.

"I swear to god, Fred Weasley, if you go anywhere near – FUCK–" She yelped as I hit home.

HA. She never could resist. She gasped against me, probably seriously reconsidering her decision to not put underwear back on before she came out here. Finally, she let the toast fall to the bench, moving to press her hands against her eyes as she tried not to give in. Unfortunately for her, I knew how her body worked. Using one arm to keep her tight against me, I worked her over with my fingers, pressing and circling until she was gasping and panting against me.

"Admit iiiiit …" I grinned against her hair.

"I don't – I can't – even remember – what I'm admitting–" Emma gripped the bench in front of her, knuckles white.

"Perfect, exactly what I was going for."

"If you – if you think I'm returning the favour _yougotanotherthingcoming_ ," she rushed out her words on one breath.

"I think I'll live."

"Fuck, fuck – _oh god, right there_ – don't fucking stop–"

"Then admit itttt."

"I can't – fine, I admit it!" Emma cried. "Jesus Christ, Fred – just make me come already!"

I did, quickly and triumphantly, and it was bloody beautiful. Nothing muffled the noises she was making, and the smell of her was going to hit me every time I walked into my kitchen all bloody day, but I didn't care. For a moment, she slumped against me, apparently completely spent. However, soon she turned around in my arms and kissed me hard.

"Did you seriously just use sex to make me admit that a fucking dog is a serial killer?" she asked.

"No, I think I used a bloody good hand job to make you admit that a dog is a serial killer," I smirked back.

"I mean it, I hate ya."

"That's what I'm here for."

"I also meant it when I said I'm not helpin' ya out," Emma pulled out of my arms, patting my cheek a little too hard to be considered affectionate. "Have fun takin' care of yourself on your own!"

"Yeah, well," I pretended that I was totally cool, watching her as she moved to pick up her probably cold toast by this point. She took a bite with an over-satisfied grin before waltzing out of my kitchen, leaving me alone. "At least I'm good that!"

"Soooo am I, Fred!" Emma called back, her voice warbling down the hall.

"Show me sometime?" I yelled, a little taken aback.

"Maybe, if you admit that Otis the Chihuahua isn't the Reddale killer!"

I smirked and picked up my mug of coffee that Emma had made for me earlier. It was a little cold, but I didn't really care.

* * *

So things were good.

No really, I was honestly happy! And a million other things, because not gonna lie, sometimes I would wake up with my stomach in knots, but most days I could carry on, excited to see her again. Admittedly no, we don't talk about us. We can talk about the actual serial killer out there somewhere, or our jobs, or the first Auror interview I was about to have soon. But we didn't talk about us. We argued over the potential of the dog across the hall being a serial killer, but we didn't talk about how we felt, we didn't talk about what we were doing, we didn't talk about anything to do with what was happening between us. I mean, in a way, we didn't have to! We'd never been great at talking about our relationship, no matter what form it took at that current time, so why in the hell should this be any different? Like I said, things just happened with us. We cross bridges when we come to them. If I had to actually stop and think about something, I think I might combust (or flip a lid and run, but you know).

One thing we definitely didn't talk about was cuddling.

Let's face it, Emma's a cuddler. She always has been. She fucking loves it, I have absolutely no doubts about that, but personally it terrified me. When we'd first been sleeping together we had never done it, for obvious reasons, but this time was different. I could tell that she was holding back, always moving away from me, and I was grateful since every time we got close like that, my head screamed. Overwhelming didn't cover it. There was just a fine line somewhere that I hadn't been willing to cross yet, because there was just something too intimate about it.

The morning of my first interview, we woke up like that, though. Sometimes that happens. Usually I wake up choking on her hair, or with her foot digging into me, but occasionally I open my eyes to have her head on my shoulder, or our legs tangled. This morning, I woke up first like usual, only to find her resting her cheek on my chest, obviously having gotten cold against some point in the night, as once again, she was wearing a t-shirt that had once been mine (like seriously, I don't think I'm ever getting it back).

We all know that Emma is tiny. Like, mate, she's barely over five feet. But for some reason, I glanced down at her and felt like she weighed a million pounds, which I was never going to mention, lest she kill me. It wasn't so much that she was physically heavy, but the emotional weight of her just damn near killed me. Every time we got this close it felt so comfortable it was insane, yet I still felt the paralysing need to pull away all the time. I prayed that she didn't wake soon, because I knew what would happen if she did. She would moan about the time, wish she didn't have to get up, but ultimately notice her position and roll away from me. While it would allow me to breathe without me worrying that I was going to _explode_ , it also killed me a little every time.

How do I like … _like this_ , without bloody panicking?

"Stop it …" her voice suddenly rumbled.

"I didn't know you were awake," I muttered.

"I'm noooot," she mumbled. "but you're so tense I can practically feel you thinkin', so stop it."

"I'm not tense!"

"Fred, just go back to sleep, it's the middle of the night."

"Actually, it's about six thirty–"

"Ugh, I don't care," Emma moaned. She moved slightly and I figured welp, this was it, this was when she pulled away. But to my surprise, she just slumped further down my body until her face was buried against my arm, her body pressed in close to mine. "To me, that's the middle of the night."

She was quiet for several moments in which I freaked out so severely that I figured I just hadn't noticed that she'd fallen back asleep. However, I was mistaken when she quietly asked, "So what're you worried 'bout?"

"What … what makes you think I'm worried?" I muttered.

"Told ya," she murmured sleepily. "Too tense. You could slice watermelons on that jaw line. I can't sleep if your brain's goin' a hundred miles an hour. Is it the interview today?"

"Uhhh … yes?" I tried.

Emma sighed, pulling back. It abated the pain in my chest a little, but I still felt kind of pissed off at that fact. Why couldn't this be easier? Why was I only fine once she had moved away from me? I knew that it was only so that she could open her eyes and look at me, but it still felt like there was something wrong with me. Why couldn't I just enjoy this like a normal person?

"Don't be worried, Fred," she said. "You'll be brilliant, seriously."

"Ok," I snorted.

"Honestly," she tapped my arm gently. "Don't let it get to your head. It's only the first step, after all."

I smiled vaguely. "I never dreamed I'd ever become an Auror."

"Not even as a kid?"

"Oh, you go through the phases," I shrugged, moving onto my side to talk to her easier. "Quidditch player. Minister for Magic. Doesn't everyone go through a time of running around the house with your parents' wand, pretending that you're taking down bad guys?"

"Guess I missed that phase," Emma smiled.

"I wanted to be one when I was like, eight or something," I said. "And when I got into bail enforcement, I worked closely alongside them a lot, so I considered making the jump sometimes, but it was never serious. It was always because the glamour was so tempting, but that's only about 10% of the job."

"But you want this," Emma assured me. "You do."

"Do I really? I've talked and talked about it, but it was only a fleeting idea for ages."

"Within five minutes of you bringing home the application, you already had it half filled out," Emma said.

"Fine, whatever," I rolled my eyes. "but it's three years of training. And sometimes I wonder whether the only reason I want this is because Reddale's still out there."

"What, and if he finally got caught, you'd suddenly regret applying?" Emma shot me a look. "Shuddup, Fred. You're gonna go to the interview and you're gonna get accepted. You'll be a brilliant Auror and I'm gonna worry every bloody day over ya, but you'll be chasin' bad guys, so it'll be worth it."

"You're gonna worry?"

"Don't even try and tease me, 'course I will," Emma shoved me lightly. "Will you go back to sleep now?"

"Only if you tell me what you wanted to be when you were little."

"Fine. I wanted to be a fairy," Emma yawned.

"I can see why that dream panned out."

Emma kicked me. "I didn't know what I wanted to do when I was at school at first. Then, someone came to talk to us during career day from the Cursebreaker Division and I loved the sound of it. The rest is history."

"That's when you met Libby, right?"

"We were assigned to the lab together with a few others," Emma's eyes had slid closed as she remembered, smiling slightly at the memory. "I climbed into a sarcophagus and scared the livin' shit outta her when she opened it."

"Wait, that's how you met?"

"I thought she was gonna hate me, but turns out she thought it was hilarious," Emma snorted. "She climbed in too so we could scare Sarah."

"So I guess … if you hadn't have become a Cursebreaker, you never would have met her," I mentioned. "and then eventually, we never would have met either."

"So we have my job to thank for this?"

"Just sayin', think about what my job could cause in the future."

"If this is you still trying to come up with excuses to get out of it, it's not working," Emma accused. She suddenly burrowed in close, an arm curling around and up my back, her nose pressed against my bare chest. Fuck. I froze immediately, one arm trapped between us and the other too afraid to move. "Fred, you want this," she murmured. "You'll be ok."

Her voice was low, comforting. She wasn't talking about the job anymore and she was right: I did want this. I wanted it so badly it hurt, but I just didn't know how to relax with her around me like that. It's like … it's basically a hug, right? Yeah, just a horizontal hug! In bed. With not a lot of clothes on. Just fucking hug her, you eejit! Like she said, you'll be ok.

Slowly, I wound my free arm around her. My heart was thumping up somewhere around my ears as I tentatively moved until my hand rested right between her shoulder blades. She didn't move, but instead let me maneuverer myself around her until we shared the same pillow, the same space, same breath. I was so tense I was sure that a bomb could have been dropped on me and I still wouldn't budge, but hey, I was here!

It took a long time to calm. I didn't think I was going to at all for several minutes there, but I did, slowly but surely. However, by the time I had actually finally managed to relax my muscles enough that I could have potentially fallen back asleep, my alarm clock was going off. I sighed and normally Emma complained for a million years when she had to get up, but for some reason, I felt her grinning against my chest.

"See?" she whispered. "Told ya you'd be ok."

* * *

"So today's the day, huh?"

I turned as I walked, noticing Kayla call out from the entrance to the Homicide Division that I had just passed. I grinned and slowed down so that she could catch up. She had looked so tired the last I'd seen her, but today she was positively glowing, which I'm sure had totally nothing to do with Yael's birthday a few days ago. "Yeah, interview's in – oh, shit, ten minutes!" I swore at my watch. "Sorry, girl, I can't chat much, they wanted me there at least twenty minutes before in case they were running early."

"I'll walk you there!" Kayla hurried forward. I offered my elbow as a joke, but she took it anyway as she led me through the Auror Office. We had to wind through the extraordinary amount of traffic down the corridor. It was one of the main thoroughfares through the office, from the front doors at the entrance to the huge space, all the way through the various divisions towards the higher up offices at the back. Every five seconds we had to dodge somebody with a whiteboard, or escorting a suspect of some kind, or in the case of the Vice Division, apparently putting on a fashion show as they went through the stock outfits they apparently kept in the Uncover Operations Cupboard. I hastily ducked down behind Kayla so that no one from THAT division noticed me! Memos swooped overhead, and the chaos actually helped keep me in check and not freaking out like I might have done if I had my mind to myself.

But then again, I wasn't really as anxious as I might've been. Perhaps Emma had knocked some sense into me after all.

"You'll kill it today, don't worry, Fred!" Kayla told me.

"Your confidence hits me so," I said back, nudging her shoulder. "Thanks, Kayla."

"This the first or second interview?"

"First. If I get through this, then it's a medical and physical exam. I need to be able to run something like two miles – TWO MILES! Who the hell runs in the first place?!"

"I figured all you had to do is get weird with Emma," Kayla grinned. "Then you run like hell, right?"

"Oi!" I complained. "I did a favour for you, girl, don't you go making fun of me!"

"True, true, I do owe you one," Kayla said. "I know you said something to Yael at his birthday. It pushed him into talking to me, so whatever you did, thank you."

"I honestly didn't do THAT much," I told her. "He just needed a nudge, is all. OH, which reminds me, we didn't get to hear exactly what you guys said!" I shoved her with my elbow. "C'moooon, are you guys like, going out now or what?"

"Fred, you know it's more complicated than that," Kayla rolled her eyes.

"Yeeeeah, but you are basically, at the end of the day, right?"

She glanced around quickly and I shook her elbow as it was looped around mine. "Kaaaaayla!" I said and she laughed.

"You can't say anything around here!" she hissed between giggles. "Ok? I'm serious, if Huntley found out, we'd be separated for sure–"

"Hate to break it to you, sister, but I'm pretty sure Huntley already suspects something," I snorted.

"He knows nothing."

"Honey, the whole bloody office knows something!" I laughed. "I wouldn't worry too much. If he thought you guys working together would be a conflict of interest, he would've separated ya a long time ago. Besides, you guys still got Reddale to catch."

Kayla was exasperated, and her cute face was a little red around the edges, but she smiled. "Hell yeah, we do. Just think though, couple of months and you might be one of the new trainees!"

"Yeah, exactly how many trainees do you guys usually get who are already over 18?"

"You'd be surprised how many, you won't be the only Old Man," Kayla said as we slowed down to a halt in the corridor. We had wound our way right to the back to the offices, to a small waiting room where there were about ten other people milling about. Some were pacing, some were waiting on the stuffy sofas, but all of us were here for the same thing: waiting to be interviewed. Kayla unwound her arm and squeezed my shoulder before heading back towards her own division.

"Good luck!" she called after me. "You'll be brilliant!"

I hadn't said much back, just waved in thanks. It was a strange feeling to be left standing there with several other people who all wanted the same thing that I did. I knew that not everyone interviewed got accepted into the next stage. But if all I had to do was impress the man interviewing me, Head of Auror Training, Oscar Tillman, then uh … turns out that I had a pretty good chance.

He turned out to be not quite what I expected.

"Welcome!" Head Auror Tillman cried enthusiastically, practically leaping out of his chair to shake my entire arm as I was eventually called into his office. "Come take a seat Mr Weasley, it is always exciting to meet new potential recruits!"

"Uhhh …"

"Oh, there's no need to be shy. It's all open in here! Feel free to ask me ANYTHING during this interview – go on, I DARE YOU!" Tillman threw his arms out in excitement.

Merlin, what was this guy on?

"Uhhh … thank you?"

"You're welcome, you're welcome," Tillman nodded, although I wasn't entirely sure what I had even thanked him for. I sat down in the chair opposite his on the other side of his desk a little taken aback … ok, maybe I had whiplash. I'd stupidly assumed that my interviewer would be yet another Huntley clone, stuffy and uptight and someone determined to hate me on principle. But all throughout the bizarre interview, Auror Tillman appeared less like Huntley, and more and more like a punch drunk panda bear.

"There's no need to feel anxious about today! This is just an initial interview to get to know you and your personality!" Tillman exclaimed. Seriously, he could have even said 'your rent is due tomorrow' in that tone and still make it sound like the best thing that had ever happened to him. "I want to get to know the REAL you, Mr Weasley. Mind if I call you Fred? My friend's call me Oscar. Or Auror Octopus! You don't want to know how I got that nickname," he chortled.

"Oh, I bet," I said hastily.

"But the REAL you, Fred," Tillman added. "No interview persona, I know what it's like when you're trying to impress, you advertise what's great about you and hide the bad, but I want to know EVERYTHING! Can you agree to do that?"

"You don't want to know about the time I kicked my neighbour's dog, right?" I asked hesitantly.

Tillman roared with laughter. Blimey.

"I like you! Ok, let's get into it …"

His questions got more and more bizarre as the interview went on. They started off as simple, "Would you rather be stabbed to death or buried alive?" or "What would you do if you found a hundred Galleons in an alleyway?" but soon progressed to, "You have five seconds to do the best impression of your favourite animal … GO!" I barely had time to think before I found myself barking like Otis, and I don't even LIKE dogs. Hell, I was barely even an animal person, for crying out loud!

"Ok, ok," Tillman said, not even giving me time to recover from the disaster of an animal question. "For this one, I want you to think of someone close to you. Might be a partner, might be a sibling or a friend, just the first person who comes to mind when I say someone close to you …"

My head suddenly swam with several people, which still surprised me every now and then. I forget that I actually have a few people that I actually give a damn about. There was James, of course. He would always be my best friend, my bro, my partner in crime. Libby and baby Clara. Crazy Rose sprang to mind, and Yael, Kayla and Sapphire …

But I said, "Emma."

"Excellent," Tillman grinned. "Don't worry, I don't need to know who she is. Scenario is this: you've been asked to go undercover for a year and you are not allowed to tell anyone. To go undercover, you have to pretend to die in real life, so everyone you know is going to think you are dead. Emma suspects something is not right and rightly guesses the death was fake. She tracks you down and confronts you. What do you say?"

I sighed, thinking. "She'd kill me for real before I could say anything."

Tillman chuckled, "Ok, but assuming she doesn't kill you?"

"I …" Blimey. What would I say? Why did I have to pick Emma, I knew what I'd tell anyone else! _It was my decision, suck it up. I'm not dead, so you better not tell_. There, end of discussion. But that wouldn't fly with her, and I knew it. She would be furious for not telling her. Not after everything and we'd argue long into the night over it. I would tell her she had no right to tell me what to do with my life and she would say I had no right to fuck with hers. Though no doubt we'd soon realise that we were both wrong …

And it would probably end with me getting her a cup of tea. Goddamn it.

"Uhhh … I guess I would explain that it was my job and I hope she understands why I did it?" I practically asked.

Thankfully, Tillman seemed to accept that answer.

"Excellent! Now, tell me, imagine that you are locked in a room with nothing but a toothpick, roll of toilet paper and a live duck …"

* * *

A/N: I BRING Y'ALL A RANDOM UPDATE FROM DENMARK! I know, of all places, but I'm staying with a friend who actually has decent internet, so. Again, I'm not back regularly and I have absolutely no idea if I'll be able to update again from another random country, but you never know. (For the record, I'm having a good time travelling!).

BUT Fremma. Yo. They be relationshipping. Fred, honey, you are fucked. There's no goin' back now! Also cutesy Auror side couple, bc I'm ridiculous. I hope you all liked this, PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU LIKED IT!

Thank you so much for your reviews. I can't quite believe the response I've had to this story, compared to the response I thought I was going to get. I've gotten so many comments saying how invested you are, how much you care about these characters, and it means so much to me. I literally don't know what else I can say, except thank you!

So thank you. I love you all. I miss you all, you have no idea!  
\- Moon. xoxo


	26. That one time I broke and entered

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 26: That one time I broke and entered.

I'm telling ya, I didn't expect my sister of all people to be the one waiting for me at home.

"SWEET BABY JESUS–" I yelped when I noticed Roxanne leaning against the wall in my hallway. "ROXIE, what the fuck?!"

"SOMEONE hasn't answered their mail in like, forever," Roxanne smirked, arms folded across her chest. She didn't seem to have been waiting long, as she still had her coat on and a bag waiting at her feet, but she straightened as I scowled and closed my front door behind me. "Sooooo I figured that I'd drop by! You know, to make sure that you weren't dead, that kinda thing."

"Well, I'm not dead," I threw at her, pushing past and aiming for the kitchen. "Besides, how the hell did you even get in here?"

"Your fireplace! Blimey, have you forgotten literally every method of communication?" Roxanne, naturally, had to follow me and she complained. "Mum and Dad have been trying to get a hold of you for days! Which reminds me, where the hell is your owl?"

I glanced up at the perch that Ravi owned near the kitchen window. Sure enough, I realised that it had been empty for a while now and answered, "I don't bloody know. Where do demon owls usually go in their spare time?"

"Well, you might want to invest in a carrier pigeon or whatever the fuck, 'cause Mum's pretty sure that you're murdered in a ditch somewhere," Roxanne snorted, "She was about two seconds from crashing this place herself, only I said that I'd come and make you call her instead. You're fucking welcome."

"Swell. Right, you can leave now."

"Not so fast!" Roxanne protested as I stormed forward and shoved on her shoulders. I spun her around, aiming back for the door, but she dug her heels in, making it next to impossible to get anywhere. "Like I said, I haven't seen ya in ages, and don't think I didn't notice the bra you had shoved down the side of your sofa! How's Emma?"

"Fuck you. I'll call Mum, ok?"

"Freeeed!" Roxanne whined. Of course my sister managed to plant her hands on either side of the kitchen doorframe and refused to be pushed through. Eventually, I got sick of trying to force her, so I gave up for the time being, scoffing and throwing up my hands in irritation. I should've known that there's really no getting rid of Roxanne Weasley when she wants something! I didn't want to talk about Emma and I threw her a glare that I hoped she would rightfully interpret as such. Luckily, she apparently got the hint, and rolled her eyes instead. "FINE," she huffed. "I won't ask! Lord knows that you couldn't explain it, anyway. Where've you been all day, then?"

"I had an interview for the Auror application."

"No way! Did you get it?"

"I don't know!" I said irritably. "Probably not, the interviewer was a maniac. Look, why are you here, apart from reassuring the parentals that I'm not dead?"

"They sent you a message like ages ago, but you never responded," Roxanne said. "Dad wants to know if you're coming to the shop anniversary party next week?"

"Oh, god," I groaned. "That's next week already?"

The annual shop anniversary party was always a disaster waiting to happen, but it didn't stop Dad from throwing it every June. Apparently, the date coincided with the day that he and Uncle Fred first launched the mail order joke shop, and he celebrated it without fail every year. Technically, Dad tries to make it a swanky event with investors and opportunities for networking, but try as he might, it always manages to turn into a shit-show by midnight. Still, I figured we probably got points for trying? Everyone dresses up to the nines and binges of cheap wine, it's _that_ kind of a party.

"I'm still recovering from the last one," Roxanne snorted. "but yeah. Only you didn't answer, so Mum naturally got worried."

"Whatever. You can tell them I'll come."

"Tell them yourself! I'm only here to make sure you're not dead," Roxanne reminded me, sticking out her tongue.

"What are you, twelve?"

"Just call Mum!" Roxanne sighed. However, the smirk she soon got on her face then haunted me a little as she added, "Oh and also, Emma was totally already where when I arrived. She told me to tell you that she'll come over later."

I closed my eyes, cursing Merlin or whoever the hell I could blame for my sister existing.

"That's great. Thanks, Roxie. You can leave now."

"Heart youuuu!" she warbled, blowing a kiss at me.

"OUT."

I leaned against the edge of my fireplace heavily once I'd shoved my sister back into it and she'd disappeared. Of course Emma had been here.

… someone get me a drink.

* * *

"I blew it!" I cried theatrically. "It was a nice idea while it lasted, but like hell am I ever gonna be Auror Weasley! That interview was the worst, seriously, FUCK. MY. LIFE."

"Anyone ever tell you the phrase 'drama queen' before?" Emma asked innocently.

"Shut it, you."

"Seriously, I'm sure it was fine!" she said. "You didn't have to literally drag me out of bed for this."

"Again, I am so sorry about my sister."

"Hey, she was fine!" Emma said, cheerfully. "I was a bit thrown when I realised it wasn't you, but she seemed to think it was funny."

"Holy shit."

"Don't worry, I didn't accidentally come on to her or anything."

"Funnily enough, that doesn't reassure me."

Emma just laughed though, stepping in closer. Hell, I'd been surprised when I went home and realised it was my sister instead of her, since I'd apparently become rather accustomed to her being there. Even though the last time I'd seen Emma was only this morning when she was practically shoving me out the door yelling, "Good luck with the interview! Bitch, you'll be fine, you can yell at me about it later!" I'd still expected her to be at mine after, because apparently, that's what we do now. Maybe at one point when we first met about 99% of this was all carried out only under the cover of night time and blankets, but we were long past that now. It was bleeding over into the mornings, the evenings, and while it was easier to pretend that I hadn't just jumped blindly into this when we could maintain some kind of boundaries outside of my bedroom, I … missed her too much.

In fact, I kind of wanted her around all the time.

Either way, when I'd gone over to her flat after kicking Roxanne out, Emma had thankfully been waiting for me with a shot of vodka in one hand and store-bought cake in the other. "Depending on how it went," she'd explained.

I ended up taking both, of course.

But turns out that the cake and vodka weren't enough to get Tillman's fucking crazy laugh out of my head ( _the psycho_ ) so eventually, I told Emma, "That's it, WE'RE GOIN' OUT!" Turns out that a lot of her clothes were no longer in her wardrobe, since they had slowly taken up residence in a washing basket, shoved under the desk in my bedroom (a washing basket because I'd complained about her jeans being strewn about the floor and wasn't quite sure what the normal procedure from there was supposed to be). So we'd been forced to abaondon her place and travel back to mine. There, she'd proceeded to collapse onto my bed and complain as I went through the basket, throwing things that looked mildly appropriate for her to wear on top of her. Eventually, when I couldn't even see her face, she pulled a cardigan off her head and asked,

"Why're ya even trying to decide what I should wear? We both know I'm gonna end up in that dress again."

"Sweetheart, you wear that dress and we never leave my flat," I'd warned.

"What's so bad about that?" Emma had smirked.

"Look, as much as I appreciate your sexual abilities, I doubt even you could fuck Tillman's laugh out of my head."

"Is that a challenge?"

"PLEASE," I'd practically whined. "Don't make me be on a brink of orgasm and then suddenly remember that!"

She hadn't worn The Dress, thank the fucking lord.

She still looked hot though, hot enough that others stared when I'd dragged her with me to the nightclub. Perhaps we were getting too old for clubs now, I don't know, but Emma at least certainly didn't look it! I just needed a change of pace to clear my head, so this place seemed like a good idea! It was somewhere James and I had used to frequent when we were, you know, in our younger and wilder days. It wasn't exactly classy, but then again, I once fucked Emma against a grungy alleyway wall once, so I don't think she's allowed to complain. It wasn't that busy, being the beginning of the week and all, but there was still music and drinks and Emma next to me at the bar, and that was all I really cared about as I (dramatically, apparently) whined about my life.

"Look, I'm gonna bet ya," Emma began, digging in the pockets of her jeans for a moment. She pulled out a coin and said, "one Sickle! That the interview wasn't as bad as you thought."

"One Sickle?"

"You don't see me magically pulling anything else from these trousers, do you?"

"I'm not gonna comment."

She smacked me on the arm, before shoving the Sickle into my own pocket. "I'm sure it was fine," she insisted.

"Yeah, at one point the guy asked me how I would prefer to be murdered," I said.

"Well," Emma shrugged. "How'd you answer?"

"That I'd rather go down kicking and screaming, but that's not the point–"

"What're you talkin' bout?" Emma grinned. "He probably loved ya! I'd rather go out peacefully myself, but if I'm being murdered I guess violence comes with the territory. I'd say that I'd try my best to take out some bad guys with me while I'm at it–"

"Comprehend me, Princess!" I yelled. "I. SUCKED."

Emma rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. "Look, no one ever feels like an interview goes well," she said in a far too reasonable tone. "I promise you it'll have gone fine and you'll get a second one."

"A second one would be even worse!" I said. "They actually ask you questions about why you want to be an Auror and shit! God, I'm done for, I'm done for …"

"Well, why DO you want to be an Auror?" Emma said, before pausing and glancing around. "Which, for the sake of future court proceedings, I'm going to say we should probably not be shouting 'bout while in a Muggle nightclub …"

"Police officer, then," I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, why do you want to be a police officer?" Emma asked.

I groaned, rubbing my head. "I don't KNOW, Emma! It's like I said this morning … I know I want it, but I don't really know why."

"Well, if you can't think of an answer for me, how're you gonna convince your interviewer that you deserve a chance? C'mon, Hotshot!" Emma coughed and straightened comically, putting on a ridiculously posh voice as she apparently impersonated Tillman (blimey, it was weird). "So, Mr Weasley, what was your motivation for applying to the police academy?"

I sighed, but decided to play along because she was bloody right, of course. If I couldn't say this now, I might as well really kiss the dream goodbye. I knew that I worried that Reddale was the only reason I was doing this, but there had to be more to it than that, so I gritted my teeth and really thought about it. I glanced up at Emma eventually, waiting impatiently and holding an imaginary notepad.

"I want to protect people, Mr Interviewer," I told her. "I have been a victim before and will always be in debt to those who helped me. I want to do the same. I want to help people get out of bad situations, and I want bastards like Reddale to rot in hell. That good enough?" I added.

Emma was quiet a moment as she looked at me, but quickly recovered and wrote a note in mid-air. "Splendid answer, Mr Weasley!"

"Sounded like it was full of shit to me."

"It was very enlightening shit."

"Cheers."

"Seriously, it was perfect," Emma told me, dropping the pretend notepad. "I mean, I'd probably refrain from mentioning the phrase 'rot in hell' and say something more along the lines of 'serve justice' but overall, it was great!"

"You honestly think I can do this?" I asked uncertainly.

"Oh my god, Bonehead," Emma clutched at her chest with one hand, reaching out and clamping heavily onto my shoulder with the other. "Are you actually looking for me to reassure you of how fantastic you are?"

"Bitch, please. I know I'm brilliant! … but seriously."

"You're gonna make a fucking amazing police officer," Emma said. "Seriously."

I clinked my drink against hers in thanks and glanced away, since I couldn't really say anything else. Her support was impeccable, I don't know how she does it. I knew that this job wasn't easy, I knew that it wasn't always dramatically kicking down doors and interrogating serial killers. I watched Yael and Kayla spiral to the point where one of them nearly gave up and quit (plus the fact that Yael hasn't shaved in like, _years_ ). Being an Auror was tough, yet I still wanted to do it! I guess for now, it was enough. I finished my drink as I kept my eyes somewhere over Emma's shoulder. I couldn't quite look at her yet, for fear that I may start crying or something as equally ridiculous, however it soon turned out that _that_ was a mistake …

" _Oh, shit_ ," I suddenly choked out.

"What?" Emma asked.

"Ok, don't look, but there's this girl about ten feet down the bar who I am about 70% certain I need to avoid," I admitted.

"Which one?" Emma sounded far too enthusiastic as she blatantly turned around.

"I said don't look! Jesus," I grabbed her shoulder, shoving her back towards me. "It's the girl with the short dark hair!"

"Oh, her?" Emma glanced back, albeit this time more subtly. The girl in question was indeed several people down from us, and I couldn't be exactly sure it was her. It had been ages, and her hair was shorter now with a slightly different colour, plus her face was half turned away from us. However, I was starting to go from 70 to 75% super quickly. "She seems …"

"She's fucking insane."

"Don't tell me she killed your goldfish or something," Emma snorted.

"Please, you know I do that myself," I waved off.

"Well, what do you normally do whenever you accidentally run into someone you've slept with?" Emma asked.

"You make it sound like I've slept with every woman in London!" I cried. "For god's sake, Emma. Besides, I didn't sleep with her, I slept with her boyfriend."

Emma's eyes snapped to mine. "Oh."

"Don't worry, it was during that period when I was trying to pretend that you didn't exist," I snorted.

"Right," she said. "So do you … did you? … sleep with blokes often, then?"

Emma, I will literally never sleep with anyone else ever again except for you. Seriously _._

I decided that under the circumstances, though, it would be better not to rib into her and instead just reassure. "Did," I confirmed. "and no, not often. Honestly, I find both ladies and blokes attractive, and over the years I've found that I've personally got more of a preference for women. But yes, I've slept with men before. You can call me bisexual if you want, but I don't tend to be picky about labels."

"Ok," Emma, bless her, was hardly phased, which I appreciated. "So you slept with that girl's boyfriend, then?"

"Well, clearly I didn't KNOW he was her boyfriend at the time!" I said exasperatedly. "Besides, I don't even know if that's her–! Oh, fuck, ok," I sighed as unfortunately, the girl turned her head. "I've gone up to about 95% certain now."

"This is hilarious!" Emma grinned, trying to peer over her shoulder once more at the girl.

"Thanks for your support. Honestly, if she sees me here she will kill me, not even joking," I said, crouching down slightly. Not that Emma was exactly great for hiding behind, but still. "Like I said, it was right when I was pretending that you didn't exist, but before Rose and Scorpius' wedding, ok? I went home with him, but turns out his girlfriend came also home early. Amazingly, she chose to get mad at ME instead of him!"

"Because clearly, you're the one at fault here," Emma smirked.

"I DIDN'T KNOW!"

"Try tellin' that to some people," Emma jerked her head to where the girl who's name I didn't even recall was still somewhere down the bar.

"Yeah, well, she went apeshit at me," I shook my head as I remembered. "I literally ran as fast as I could, but I think that girl followed me home or something, because I come home from work the next day, only to find that my flamingo umbrella stand is bloody missing!"

"Oh my god."

"I KNOW."

"What the fuck, she actually stole your flamingo umbrella stand?"

"You understand now what I had to deal with!" I cried.

Emma laughed and I grinned with her, because honestly, the story was indeed a little bizarre. 'Course, I couldn't actually pin down the theft of the umbrella stand to the girl at all. I had absolutely no evidence backing it up, but I felt it, you know? The timing had been right and I just KNEW it was her, I knew it! I loved that umbrella stand, as stupid and ridiculous as it was, and I had honestly been pissed off when I had realised that it had gone missing! I had even torn apart my flat, checked the joke shop and interrogated Roxie, all in the process of trying to find it, but to no avail. The flamingo umbrella stand was apparently gone forever!

… until now?

"Emma," I said conversationally.

"Yeah?" she asked, tears of laughter still in her eyes.

"Let's steal it back."

"I'm sorry, what?" That sobered her up. She was still grinning slightly, but I think she noticed my tone of voice as she glanced up at me. "You can't be serious."

"Emma, I wasn't kidding about climbing the balcony," I pointed out.

"Oh, shit."

"I mean it!" I insisted, nudging her side lightly. "I love that umbrella stand! You tripped over it once, the first time we ever slept together, remember?"

"Jesus Christ," Emma pressed her fingers into her temples for a moment. "You are not makin' me get nostalgic over a flamingo umbrella stand, I swear to god you're not."

"C'moooon, you remember that, right?"

"I remember," Emma sighed. "I also remember that I couldn't get my jeans off."

"True, true, I had to pull them off."

"Oh, yeah …" Emma's eyes glazed slightly as she bit her lip.

I couldn't explain the strange attachment to the umbrella stand, but I at least could understand Emma getting lost in the memory. I let her stare absently at my chest for a few seconds, before I poked her in the side once more. "As much as I might like to recreate such a night," I smirked. "Perhaps later. I really do want my umbrella stand back!"

"Shut up," Emma threw me a look, but didn't step back from my hand at her side, which had ceased poking her now in favour of sliding around her instead, pulling us closer together. "Look, before you manage to convince me to go on this crazy mission, a couple of points. One: how do you even know this girl took it? And two: how in the hell do you plan to get it back?"

"I just KNOW it was her!" I cried. "She said she would make me pay, so the next day she did! It couldn't have been a coincidence."

"Ok, but why take the umbrella stand, of all things?"

"I DON'T KNOW, I'm not fucking insane, am I?" I said exasperatedly. "Maybe she panicked, maybe she just took the first thing she saw, whatever! It doesn't matter, except that she did it. As for your second point, we're gonna need a pair of black skin suits, a live ferret, two burritos and a wheelbarrow, but that last one is optional."

Emma stared.

"Ok, fine, I'm joking."

"You're killin' me, Bonehead."

"Seriously, we just follow her home," I said. I added my other arm around her, shaking her slightly as I whined, "C'mooooon, let's get it back! PLEASE DO THIS WITH ME? PLEEEEEASE? You're gonna say yes, I can see you smiling!" I added, since she was basically already giggling.

"Fuck you, Fred – of course I'm gonna end up doing this," she said, sighing as I whooped and tightened my arms around her, hugging her quickly and tightly off the floor. "Against my better judgement, because I'm pretty sure stalking, breaking and entering, and theft are all against the law, AS YOU VERY WELL KNOW."

"It's not theft if it belongs to you in the first place!" I said, putting her down.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll cross that bridge when we're pleading not guilty in court," Emma said, turning around. She glanced around the crowd of the club before asking, "So where is she, then?"

Let the mission begin.

We managed to track her down and actually kept an eye on her all night! Which was a pretty amazing feat, when you think about it, since we did admittedly get distracted a few times. Emma nicknamed the girl Peggy for some reason ("I dunno, Peggy sounds like the kind of no-nonsense woman who would steal someone's flamingo umbrella stand,") and we casually stalked her throughout the club hoping that she wouldn't notice. She had come here apparently with a few female friends, the group of them drinking and dancing together a lot. When they got lost in the crowd, I dragged Emma after me onto the dance floor, weaving our way through the bodies. I didn't think the place would end up this heaving on a Monday night, but then again, I guess London had to get through the rest of the week somehow, right?

"What d'you reckon she's here for, then?" Emma had asked me, her back to my chest as we danced. We were more trying to spy on Peggy rather than actually concentrating on moving, but I still held onto her hips tightly as we rocked together in time to the music.

"You mean does she come here often?"

"PLEASE, Merlin, tell me you've never actually used that line on someone before?"

"Look, Emma, the classics became classics for a reason," I said in her ear.

"If you'd said that to me, I might've decked ya."

"Luckily, I knew better," I smirked, kissing the shell of her ear quickly before carrying on. "I dunno, she's wearing kind of fancy clothes, right? It's all a bit too business casual for your usual club attire."

"Celebrating closing a deal at work?"

"She looks like a real estate agent."

"Wonder if she's still with the boyfriend?" Emma mused.

"I hope not, poor bloke," I said.

I might've been wrong, but I think Emma tensed a little at my words. But in a second, she was back to dancing, leaning into me contently, so I figured I probably imagined it. "So it would've been like, a year ago, right?"

"I don't remember. When was I being a ridiculous douchebag to you?"

"Which time?" Emma leaned her head back on my shoulder, turning to smirk at me.

"I'M SORRY, OK?"

"Douchebag," She nipped at my jaw affectionately before turning away. "Rose and Scorpius got married in November, so it must've been at least last year sometime."

"My umbrella stand's been missing for a year!" I cried. "We are definitely onto her – wait, wait, Peggy's on the move!"

I pointed and pushed Emma in front of me to lead the way. It seemed that Peggy and her mates were moving on! I was definitely convinced that they all worked together, as their smart outfits all matched. Peggy knocked back the last of her drink as one of her friends tugged on her arm to come, already having fetched their jackets from underneath the barstools. We didn't waste any time, Emma yelling at me to hold onto her so that we wouldn't lose each other. We kept Peggy and her girls in sight as we all left the club.

"How exactly do they plan on getting home?" Emma wondered out loud as we huddled together watching them outside in the street. The four women shrieked and laughed loudly together, tottering off down the footpath. They had to pause at one point as one of them turned and vomited in the gutter.

"Ooh," I winced.

"I feel ya, girl," Emma added. "Seriously, do you remember where she lived?"

"I don't know, it's not like I was paying much attention!" I said exasperatedly. "They're Muggles, they'll probably take a shared taxi home, right?"

"So how do we follow them, then?"

Turns out it was as simple as diving into the nearest taxi once they had disappeared into the car and yelling to the driver, "FOLLOW THOSE GUYS!" The bloke glanced back at us a little weirdly, but we could hardly be the strangest people he's ever had to drive before. Unfortunately for us, we didn't manage to pool together enough Muggle money between us to keep following Peggy's taxi the entire way. We were dropped off on a corner in the middle of Hammersmith roughly around two in the morning, watching Peggy's taxi carry on further down the road, the headlights slowly growing smaller.

"What're we gonna do?!" I cried in dismay.

"Uhhh … like, I don't wanna have to call the police," our taxi driver called out the open window. "You lot aren't gonna kill whoever's in that other taxi, right?"

"No murder, you're fine!" Emma yelled back through the window.

"Good!" The taxi driver sped off, probably praying that he didn't get a call in the morning from the police asking if he remembered driving two crazy suspects last night. Peggy's taxi was gone completely and I threw my hands up in annoyance.

"Well, GREAT," I burst out. "What're we supposed to do now?"

"I don't know what to tell ya, Fred," Emma was trying not to laugh.

"EMMAAAAA!"

"Hey! We lost 'em, I'm sorry, but we can't do much about it, can we?" she snorted. "Oh man, it's probably for the best. This is crazy!"

"But I want my umbrella stand back!"

"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IF PEGGY STOLE IT!" Emma cried. "Hell, Peggy's not even her real name! Why do you want it back so badly?"

"I told you, I'm just super attached to it, ok?" I sighed. "I don't fucking know … I guess it kind of reminds me of you."

"I'm sorry. It reminds you of ME?" Emma raised an eyebrow.

"You tripped over it!" I reminded her once more. "And like, it got stolen in the process of trying to forget about you. I mean – shut up, fine, it's just an umbrella stand!" I grumbled, folding my arms in a huff.

But naturally, Emma was giving me an odd look from under the light of the nearest street lamp.

"Did you seriously sleep with the whole of London to try and forget about me?" she asked.

I was going to answer with something, but that was when my eyes caught the headlights heading towards us from down the road. Of course there were thousands of car headlights in London, but it was two in the morning and that was coming from the direction of where Peggy's taxi had gone. I stared at the taxi as it approached, something clicking in my head. I quickly reached out and grabbed Emma, spinning her around.

"Look!"

"At what?"

"That's Peggy's taxi!"

"Seriously? You can't possibly – HOLY SHIT, FRED!" Emma burst out at the end there, because I MAY have possibly run out onto the road to stop the taxi. Yeah. Look, I know it probably wasn't my smartest idea, but what else was I supposed to do?! I sprinted into the road, Emma yelling my name and on my heels, despite herself, I'm sure. I waved my arms frantically, and the taxi came to a screeching halt. Emma and I shielded our eyes from the headlights as the driver stuck his head out of the window.

"GET OFF THE FUCKIN' ROAD, MATE, YOU'RE GONNA GET KILLED!"

"Yes! So sorry, sir, but we need to ask you–" I ran forward, still holding out my arms for some reason (as if that was going to do much if the taxi driver decided he'd had enough and just pulled away, but at least I was trying). "Did you just drop off a group of four young ladies?"

"I don' know what kind of game you're pullin', but seriously get off the bloody road," the driver shook his head. "Others won't stop for ya."

"I'm serious, please, just tell us if you dropped them off just now?"

"I am soooo sorry, he's had a bit," Emma chimed in hastily, trying to pull me away.

"EMMA," I complained. "Look, they're mates of ours, we didn't all fit in one taxi. We didn't have enough money to go any further and we don't know where they are. Please, if you were the one who dropped them off, can you tell us?"

The taxi driver sighed. He wasn't quite sure whether to believe me, but I think he finally caved because of Emma apologising and going along with it. I don't know, maybe I look less like a murder suspect whenever she's with me? He told us the street and that the number was 'eight or nine or somethin', I don't know. Look, I'm gettin' out of here ok?'

We watched the taxi speed away for a moment.

"This," Emma sighed. "is the most ridiculous thing we've ever done."

"I don't know. We had sex a lot, didn't we?"

Emma groaned, shaking her head. "Don't make me laugh! This is so stupid of us …"

"Thanks for still being here," I grinned.

"Where else would I be?" Emma threw back. She moved closer and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her easily into my side.

We stayed together like that as we walked until we reached the right street, blissfully only several blocks away. We had to check the front windows of several houses thanks to the lousy memory of the taxi driver, but eventually we found the right one, despite the fact that I felt a little bit (ok, maybe a lot) like a creeper.

"I cannot believe I'm actually breaking into someone's house …" Emma was whispering frantically as I pulled out my wand, tapping the front door. "I CANNOT believe I'm – Fred!"

"YEAH, I heard you!" I hissed. "Now shhhh!"

A glance through the front window had shown us that we had found where Peggy was! Her and her mates all appeared to be crashed out together in the front room, scattered out on the sofa and several cushions. My brain was telling me that I totally remembered this place, but quite honestly, I literally could've been pulling that straight out of my arse. Really, I didn't have a clue if this was the right place or not at all, but we'd come too far to give up now!

I cast a quick muffling charm as Emma and I hesitantly edged our way down the hallway. Despite knowing that the sleeping women wouldn't hear us, it was still instinct to whisper,

"Ok, let's find that umbrella stand!"

"For god's sake, Fred, where do we even start?" Emma hissed.

"Try summoning?"

"I am not gonna be the one to try summoning a flamingo umbrella stand, I'm tellin' ya that now."

I tried not to laugh too much. Instead, I figured that I would try the summoning, and we braced ourselves for several moments, waiting for something to happen. We stood in the middle of the lounge, permanently tensed and surrounded by four sleeping women, but all stayed silent. I let out a small breath.

"Well, that didn't work," I said. "I guess now, we–"

CRASH.

It was hard to imagine literally anyone continuing to sleep through that, even with a muffling charm! Fucking CHAOS descended as apparently, the umbrella stand decided to make a late arrival. It came spinning into the room after an ear-splitting crash that caused everyone woman in the house to scream, including Emma next to me. The stand smashed into my chest, nearly knocking me backwards, but blimey, I was glad to see it! It didn't appear to have housed any umbrellas in my absence; actually, if the earlier crash was anything to go by, it seemed that the poor thing had been shut up in a wardrobe or something for the better part of a year.

"Well, would you believe it? I WAS right!" I said, gleefully.

Peggy, naturally, was busy screaming bloody murder.

"CALL THE FUCKING POLICE!" she was yelling hysterically, her friends panicking and scrambling to their feet, lights clicking on.

"We're sorry, we're sorry, you can calm down!" Emma was yelling frantically, holding her hands up in what I suppose she thought was a calming manner. "We don't wanna hurt you, I swear!"

"BECKY, CALL THE POLICE!"

"Becky, you put down that phone!" Emma yelled, pointing at the woman who's hand was now wavering somewhere between herself and said phone.

"OKAAAAY," I said hastily, leaping in before Peggy jumped the gun and attacked Emma like some wild animal. She certainly looked like she was about to scratch some eyes out. "How about we all calm down a little. Look, terribly sorry to have barged in like this, we certainly didn't mean to wake you all. Just came for this! We'll uh, be leaving now – COME ON, EMMA."

"Wait," Peggy pointed a finger at me, unfortunately halting mine and Emma's attempts to hastily run away. Her friends all converged behind her, still clutching pillows and blankets fearfully. Peggy was staring at me with an incredulous expression as she exclaimed, "I know you!"

"Uhhhh, no you don't?"

"Yeah – you're the bastard that slept with Danny!"

"Mmmm, nope, not ringing any bells …"

"I literally remember you, you son of a bitch."

"Oh, THAT Danny!" I snapped my fingers. "Right yeah, uh … nice bloke?"

"That's gonna help," Emma muttered and I shot her a look.

"You're the one who made him leave me!" Peggy cried. "What in the hell are you doing here? Get out!"

"Ok, look sister," I sighed, exasperatedly. "For starters, I am only here because YOU took what was rightfully mine in the first place! Who the fuck breaks in and steals a guy's flamingo umbrella stand in the first place, I mean, REALLY? If you're pissed at me, at least do something drastic like smash my windows or steal my TV, that I can understand, but the _umbrella stand_? And lastly, honey, I hate to be the one to have to point this out, but your Danny was and probably still is very, very gay. I mean honestly, I did you a favour if you reeeeeally think about it–"

She threw a lamp at my head.

"I don't think she wants to think about it," Emma was trying desperately to keep it together as we both tentatively stood back upright, arms held up to protect ourselves from more flying projectiles.

"Who the hell are YOU?" Peggy asked Emma.

"I've got no bloody clue what I'm doin' here!" Emma insisted.

"Thanks, girl."

Emma shot me a look before jerking a thumb behind her at my chest. "I'm apparently with him."

"Don't trust that bastard, I swear to god!" Peggy yelled. "All he's gonna do is screw you over and fuck blokes behind your back! He's not worth any of your time. Am I right, Gay Boy?" she threw in my face.

Look, honestly, I was gonna let that one go. This has already escalated to heights I REALLY hadn't anticipated and it was all wildly out of control as it was! I could handle the sexuality slurs, because honestly, I work with convicted criminals for a living, it wasn't the worst thing I've ever been called.

But apparently, Emma had had enough.

"That's it – LISTEN UP, PEGGY," she stormed furiously, grabbing the umbrella stand out of my hands for some reason (perhaps emphasis?) and stepping forward. "That man has literally done nothin' wrong to you! If you can't pull your fucking head out of your arse and see it, then there's no help for ya! He didn't know, there was no need to steal the umbrella stand in the first place and quite frankly, it was a year ago, so GET THE FUCK OVER IT, GOD!"

I stared at Emma in amazement and a little in awe as she breathed hard. Emma clutched the umbrella stand tightly in her hands, the pink feathers ruffling under her knuckles and I think even the fake beady eyes looked proud of her. Eventually, as Peggy's friends all exchanged uncomfortable looks and started slinking away from the dramatic scene they'd somehow awoken to find in the lounge, she said to Emma, of all things,

"What the hell makes you think my name is Peggy?"

"I don't know, you look like a Peggy!" Emma threw up her hands.

"My name's Rachel!"

"I literally do not care," Emma thundered. "We are leavin' and you are going to get some help to get over whatever issues you have, because clearly you need it! Don't come near either of us ever again, or you'll regret it. I know where you live, bitch."

And with that, she rested the umbrella stand over her shoulder and marched out of the house.

I glanced back at the apparently dumbfounded Peggy, before quickly tossing her a wave. "She said it – see ya!"

Out in the street, Emma was already halfway down the block. I ran to catch up with her, arms outstretched in amazement.

"HO – LY – SHIT!" I yelled.

"Oh, I know."

"EMMA!"

" _I know_ ," she didn't look up as she continued to march forward, but she was trying to hold back a grin. "I really said all that, didn't I?"

"I don't even know what to say! I'm amazed – you're incredible–" I just shook my head. Jesus fuck, I love this woman, oh my god. I reached out and tugged on her arm, making her pause a moment. I dragged her to me and kissed her long and hard, the umbrella stand pressed between us. Our bodies always have been the ones to express what we tried to say, particularly when words failed us. Emma glanced away quickly once I had pulled away with a flourish, but didn't lose the grin.

"C'mon. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Several hours later, we still weren't asleep.

"I can't believe we did that."

"You've said that about a hundred times."

"But I still can't believe it!" Emma said, turning her head up towards me.

We were both exhausted. It wasn't difficult to tell, what with Emma yawning every five seconds and my inability to stay in the conversation without zoning out every once in a while, but adrenaline had raced through our veins for hours. Only now, once the sun was slowly starting to make an appearance, were we apparently slowing down enough to sleep. The beloved flamingo umbrella stand had finally gotten its place back next to the front door, lovingly placed there by Emma, who was determined that she wouldn't trip over it again. Now, we lay together crashed out on my sofa. Emma had managed to doze off for an hour or so at one point as she lay on top of me, head resting on my chest. I had merely listened to her breathing, her legs nestled between my own.

I suppose this is cuddling, which was another thing to add to why I was probably still not asleep yet. I hadn't expected it, but I'd only flopped down onto my sofa earlier moments before Emma had been crawling on top of me and falling asleep. Her weight on top of me was comforting and crushing and yes, it had apparently taken hours to finally relax into it, but the point is that I had eventually, so you know. I think I'm getting the hang of it. But apparently, Emma was awake again and still unable to let the whole umbrella stand thing go.

"Emma. We've been through this," I groaned, not even opening my eyes as my head was tipped back on a pillow, arms splayed out across her back. "We got the umbrella stand back. You kicked Peggy's arse. It was hot. Let me sleep."

"You're not sleepin'."

I sighed. "No."

She nestled her head against my neck, brown curls tickling my face. "So you don't mind that I went apeshit at her?"

"Emma, I would pay millions to get a replay."

She didn't say anything, but I felt her smile against me. Emma's actions had been amazing, no lie, but also entirely unexpected. I barely even knew what to say in response. I remembered how she had tensed up earlier back at the club, and realised that she had only seemed to be set off whenever Danny or whatever the hell his name had been was mentioned. I knew that she had no problem with the fact that he was a bloke. That wasn't it. I peered down at the top of her head and eventually, I think it slowly came to me.

"Heeeey …" I murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Were you … like, jealous or something tonight?" I asked.

Emma snorted. "Jealous of what?"

"You know exactly what I mean," I rolled my eyes.

She was quiet for several moments.

"Look, maybe a little, but–"

"I KNEW IT," I teased triumphantly. She huffed and tried to wiggle away but I squeezed her tighter, clamping my arms and legs around her and holding her to me. "I hardly ever see jealous Emma, this is great!"

"Don't get used to it," she grumbled, ceasing her struggles to get free with a sigh. "She doesn't come out often."

"Oh, I know. Why d'you think I'm so happy?" I said. "When it was just me who goes crazy every now and then and punches guys who kiss you, I kind of felt like I was being a little unreasonable, but you get jealous too and now all is right with the world!"

"Key difference is that I don't go punching up your endless string of ex-lovers," Emma pointed out.

"Well, my point still stands," I said. "God knows you probably handle it better, but it's just … nice to know I'm not the only one who can be unreasonable every now and then."

She sighed, but I could also feel her smiling against my chest. "I hate that it feels unreasonable. I know you've slept with a billion other people besides me, I know that. It's normal and totally fine and I honestly have no problem with it, whether they were women or men, I don't care. Well, I mean, I _do_ care …" She paused slightly, biting her tongue and I said,

"It's fine, I think I get you."

"I just mean that I care in the ways that matter," she nodded. "but no matter how much I don't have a problem with the fact that I am way beyond being the first … I still feel irrationally jealous sometimes whenever I hear you've been with someone else."

I paused for a moment, taking that in. Then, I bit back a grin and decided to answer with,

"I mean, it's not a _billion_ people."

"Please," Emma held up a hand before letting it fall back to my chest, the warmth sinking into my skin. "I would rather live my life not knowing what your exact number is."

"Then we live in agreement!" I answered. "I don't need yours either. Maybe I have slept with slightly less than a billion people, but you know the saying: quality over quantity."

She smiled sleepily. "We do have some good quality sex."

"That, we do."

"I know we've joked about it before," she said, even quieter now. "but … best you've ever had?"

I snorted. Any other time I might have carried on the joke, but we had come a long way from the monkey bars on New Year's Day, comparing myself to someone I didn't even know. I just tightened my arms around Emma and said,

"Best I've ever had."

Emma grinned, moving to rest her elbows on my shoulders so that she could hold her head in her hands and look at me. "Fuck yeah, I am. We got the umbrella stand back!"

"We got the umbrella stand back," I returned the grin.

She yawned in my face then and I copied her. She let her head flop back down with a groan. "I don't wanna go to work in a couple of hours …" she complained.

"So don't."

"Pardon?"

"You're so tired, you'd probably just end up killing yourself accidentally with autopsy fluids," I pointed out. "I don't have an open case at the moment."

"So …"

I swallowed tightly. "So, um. Say that you're sick. Then, we can stay in bed all day."

I had never ever suggested something like that before, but what the hell. I was feeling brave and perhaps a little out of my mind. And you know what? She agreed.

That's my Emma.

* * *

"Hey, random question," I called down my intercom. "The Aurors have the ability to track the criminal records of wizards, right? Just in case they get arrested by the Muggle police or whatever?"

" _Fred, what in the fuck_ ," Sapphire deadpanned.

"No really! You got an answer for me? The Auror lot are too busy, apparently they got a lead or something–"

" _What did you do, and exactly how illegal was it?_ " Sapphire asked exasperatedly.

I grinned as I sat down at my small kitchen table. It was just pushing into the afternoon, but Emma was still asleep. I'd left her in my bed, curled up around a pillow as she slept old clothes of hers that she'd left here previously. I hadn't wanted to wake her, so prodded her face gently to check she was really out, grinning as her nose twitched. I'd then stroked her cheek softly before heading for the kitchen to make my call.

"Ok, so I MIGHT have broken into someone's house and verbally abused the woman who lives there," I admitted.

" _Jesus Christ, Fred_ ," Sapphire said.

"BUT, in my defence, Emma was the one who yelled at her the most!"

" _What in god's name–? No, fuck it_ ," I could hear Sapphire sighing down her end of the intercom, and a thump as perhaps she stood up. " _You're not working, right? 'course you're not, you're calling me at 12pm on a fucking Tuesday. Bitch, you're taking me to lunch and telling me exactly what you and that girl of yours did_."

"Oh, Saph – uh …" I glanced back at the kitchen door and ultimately, to where the hallway led to my bedroom and Emma. "No, I'm not working right now but, um …"

" _Oh my god. She's still fucking there with you, isn't she?_ "

"YOU DON'T KNOW!"

" _Freeeed_ ," Sapphire laughed.

"Ok, fine, she's here," I sighed, rubbing my forehead with my fingers.

Sapphire sounded so bloody proud of herself, it was hard to imagine that this was the same woman I'd ever thought of sleeping with. " _Oh, mate. Look, we can meet up another time if you want. But I swear to god, you're telling me this story!_ "

"I mean, we haven't met up in forever, but–"

"Fred?"

I jumped slightly, spinning to face the kitchen doorway once more. Emma stood there, a woollen jumper pulled on and her hair a sleepy mess. She supressed a yawn against her forearm, before asking,

"Who're you talking to?"

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't wanna wake you up–"

"Nah, nah, it's fine," she said. She moved forward so that she could lean a hip against the side of the table in front of me, folding her arms. "If you wanna go see Sapphire, honestly go ahead."

"What, who? Nah, I don't give a fuck about that girl," I grinned.

" _OI!_ " Sapphire's voice yelled so loudly in my ear, I think Emma heard it too. She smirked.

"We've got all day," she told me. "and besides, I could probably use a couple of hours to myself. As we found out yesterday, I literally have no clean clothes left and I think Charmaine's honestly forgotten who I am."

"Ooh, tell her I say hi!" I said.

"So you'll go to lunch with Sapphire?"

" _BITCH, TAKE ME TO LUNCH!_ " Sapphire yelled.

"Fine! Jesus," I sighed in exasperation down the intercom. I glanced back up at Emma and added, "You're sure, right? I'll come back soon. We don't have to leave my bed. We can even bring snacks?"

"You're gonna let me have snacks in bed?" Emma asked in slight astonishment.

"Ok, yeah, only on your side."

"Fine, deal. I'll see ya later," Emma leaned down and quickly kissed me for what seemed to be no apparent reason. I didn't have time to think about it or react, since it was only two seconds before she pulled back. But I could feel her tense slightly before she pulled away and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realise that the reason for it was because she was kissing me goodbye. KISSING ME GOODBYE. She hastily scurried out of the kitchen then before I could say anything, because _holy shit_. I couldn't even remember another time when we'd kissed just out of pure affection. There was always at least a playfulness behind it, and it was usually always a precursor to sex. We NEVER kissed for the hell of it. I didn't move for several moments, my heart thumping erratically and fear crushing my throat. DID I MENTION HOLY SHIT?

"… _uh, Fred?_ "

"WHAT? Oh, right!" I was jerked back into the moment at hand, fingers pressing against my intercom probably a bit too tightly. "Sorry, Saph! Yeah, let's uhhhh, go get lunch."

* * *

A/N: RANDOM UPDATE FROM ITALY! Still doing the travelling and spending my days on water-buses down Venetian canals, seeing the David statue, and crying over whirlwind 3 day romances in Rome, haha. But thank you so much for still being here and taking each chapter as you can get it! I swear, I'm still thinking about Fremma every goddamn day. :D

So Fred and Emma are crazy and dramatic, but they are slowly getting places and they are in love! I'm so sorry if this chapter is terrible, I haven't really edited it as much as I usually would (y'know, bc travelling), but I HOPE YOU LIKED IT! PLEASE LIKE IT!

How this story is nearly at 300 reviews already is fucking beyond me. I literally love you all so much. Please tell me what you think!  
I miss you all!

\- Moon. xoxo


	27. That one time I talked about it

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 27: That one time I talked about it.

"I'm sorry," Sapphire was shaking her head as she sipped delicately on the straw of her smoothie. "but you legit broke into this chick's house?"

"Look, I was feeling a bit hysterical and I just rolled with it! To be fair, Emma didn't stop me," I added, leaning back in my chair.

"And all this 'cause you shagged her boyfriend over a year ago?"

"Basically."

"Pray she doesn't press charges, mate," Sapphire snorted.

"SO I BROKE INTO HER HOUSE, she's the crazy one!" I complained, but Sapphire just held out her hands in defence.

"Hey, bitch, I don't make the law," she laughed.

"What about her stealing from me in the first place?"

"Whiiiiich you can't prove."

"… well, fuck," I sighed. "Bail me out of Azkaban when my time comes, then?"

"I'll think about it," Sapphire took another sip of her smoothie, chewing on the straw as she watched me with a look that I didn't like. She was gonna rip into me any second now, I was certain, and I was starting to get a little queasy thinking about it. Sure enough, the next words out of her mouth were,

"So you and Emma are banging on the reg now, or what?"

"I knew it!" I groaned. "I knew we couldn't even have one entire conversation without you bringing it up!"

"Honey, it was already brought up," Sapphire said. "Seriously! What the hell's happening? You guys looked cosy as ever at Yael's birthday."

"I AM HAPPY, Saph!" I complained. "Can't you just leave me be?"

"When have I ever?"

"I hate you."

"FRED, TELL MEEEE!"

"Well, I apparently don't need to tell you, because you already know!" I grumbled, refusing to look at her and give her the satisfaction. I was certain that the entire café that I had taken Sapphire to probably also knew by this point, considering how loud we were speaking, but that was hardly my concern. I mean, so far I'd managed to avoid talking about this thing at all costs! I glared at Sapphire and wondered when the feeling good part would kick in, because isn't talking about emotional shit supposed to make you feel better? Right now, I rather felt like I was about to throw up, so I wanted a refund! Mind you, maybe the sick feeling was simply left over from when Emma had kissed me goodbye (I've certainly been panicking enough over it). I physically couldn't get any more words out at that point, so I just stayed silent and let Sapphire read between the very clear lines and put two and two together.

"Oh, Fred," she grinned. "You are SO dating her."

"Fuck you."

"No really!" Sapphire said. "Fine, if you won't say anything, just answer some questions with yes or no. I promise you that I will figure out all I want to know just from that. First, does she ever stay over?"

"Wait, I never agreed to this–!" I began, but the need to defend myself was too compelling. "I – well, yes, but–"

"Are you still friends?"

"Sapphire, what kind of fucking stupid question is that?" I sighed.

"Well, are you?"

I grumbled out, "Yes."

Sapphire grinned. "Wait for it – do you guys cuddle?"

"No!" I snapped at once. But then I remembered the handful of times we'd spent tensely wrapped around each other and I faltered slightly with, "Uh …"

She was positively smirking now. "You ever make food for her?"

"Hey! That goes both ways, she makes food too sometimes–!"

"Uh-huh, yeah, has she ever worn your clothes?"

"These questions are ridiculous–"

"Ever argued over toothpaste? Ever kissed her goodnight?" Sapphire's questions kept thundering out and they struck me dumb because I think we all know the answers to them. FUCK. I turned away from Sapphire's bloody smug face, hoping that this conversation didn't somehow get back to Emma at some point. I reached out and stole Sapphire's smoothie as a way to distract myself, stealing a sip or two.

"Jesus, ew, what the hell flavour is this?" I asked, peering down at it.

"Quit stalling, you know I'm right," Sapphire snatched the smoothie back.

"Sapphire, I love you," I rolled my eyes. "but seriously, fuck off. I don't know what it is we're doing, and quite frankly, I'm trying not to think about it! Maybe I eventually will, maybe I won't, but my point is that at this current time, I DON'T KNOW."

"Fine, fine," Sapphire sighed. "but let it be on the record that I called it."

Thankfully, from there she dropped the subject. Look, if I couldn't talk about this at all yet, what the hell made her think I could talk about it to her? I was scared enough as it was! Unfortunately, I knew that eventually (and probably sometime soon) I would have to face it. I mean, I liked to think that Emma and I were subtle but let's face it, EVERYONE fucking knows by this point. It was only so long before our friends, our families, started realising that something was up, and of course that was only going to mean more questions! More teasing! More pushing for answers that I didn't have! Can't I just live in magical amazing land a little bit longer, where Emma got irrationally jealous over ex-lovers from years ago and we stole umbrella stands together?

I yelled goodbye to Sapphire as we left the café and she screamed back, "LOVE YOU, BITCH!" as she made her way to the café fireplace. I almost followed to Floo back home as well, but I realised that my hands were actually shaking from the encounter and that I should probably walk it off. Jesus Christ, I'm a mess. It was actually a rather far walk to my building from Diagon Alley, but I really didn't need yet another breakdown within the space of a couple of months, so I set out anyway.

Eventually, about forty five minutes later, I could just start to first see my building come into view from around the corner. I passed a wooden bench that currently hosted a middle-aged man, apparently taking a rest in the middle of walking his dog, and a large group of kids hanging around the bus stop nearby. I'd been looking up at my windows so hard, trying to figure out if Emma was in there somewhere waiting for me, that I suddenly realised that from this angle, you could literally almost see across the street and straight inside.

Huh.

I went and sat down next to the dog man.

"Hey," I said. "Weird question, but you see that residential building over there?"

The man glanced over at me with an odd expression but answered, "Yeah?"

"Can you see anything in through the windows from here?"

"Who the fuck are you? Police? I'm literally walking my dog!" the man said defensively.

"No! Blimey," I sighed. "I live there, and I uh, just got tinted windows. I wanna know if they work?"

"I dunno," the man sighed, glancing up as his yappy dog jumped around our feet, sniffing at the bench. "I can't see anything."

"You walk your dog this way often?"

"Usually."

"Ever notice anyone who regularly hangs out in this area?"

"Are you sure you're not police?"

"We've had a few break ins recently," I shrugged. "Just trying to be thorough."

The man sighed, but indulged me. "There's those lads who hang out around here sometimes. Never noticed anything odd about them."

"Thanks, mate!" I said, clapping a hand onto the man's shoulder enthusiastically before standing up. "Keep that beady eye out, though, you never know! Also, your dog is humping the bench."

The man glanced around, startled, and I heard him yell out, "Duke, no!" as I walked away.

* * *

"Sapphire doing good?"

I just let out a strangled groan, stretching out and flopping dramatically over my bed. I crushed Emma's legs underneath me as she had apparently been reading, lying on top of the covers. She was barely phased though, simply lifting her book out of the way as I lay with my arms splayed out, face planted into the duvet.

"That bad, huh?"

"Third degree."

"Hmmm," Emma hummed, not even glancing up from her book. "I went home to wash some clothes. Charmaine indeed forgot who I was."

"Charmaine needs to get out more."

Emma snorted, before tossing the book down onto the floor gently and looking down at me passed out over top of her. "Cmooooon," she said, shoving at me lightly. "What she say?"

"It was nothing," I brushed it off, turning my head so that my cheek lay against the blankets instead. Watching her from this sideways position, I noticed that she looked entirely comfortable as she was practically lounged across my bed. She looked at ease. Maybe even happy, if I dared imagine that sort of thing. Again, I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING.

Look, things had started to stray into the Too Real category today. I know, _I know_ it shouldn't seem like much. Really, I do. But, mate … she fucking kissed me goodbye. It'd been good the last several weeks, it had just been us! No one else, no probing questions, nobody judging or wanting to know what was going on, it was literally just the two of us and now, the bubble had apparently been broken. I didn't realise that all it would take was a goodbye kiss and lunch with a friend. If I'd known that, I might've been a bit more careful protecting the bubble!

Of course now, all my head was doing was screaming ' _run, motherfucker, run!'_ It was that stupid little part of me that I'd just been pushing aside every now and then. Remember him? He was an imbecile, he didn't know what he was talking about, but apparently he was also getting louder and louder every day that went by until now, where he was practically screeching like a pterodactyl in my head! I knew that there had to be another part of me somewhere that was still feebly pumping his fist and saying ' _stay, motherfucker, stay?_ ' but where the hell he was, I didn't know. Emma might be happy now, but sooner or later, she was going to catch on, right? The bubble was gone and she was going to figure out what a terrified idiot I was. How she hadn't already and bailed was a mystery and a half. To be fair, she had dealt with a lot of my douchecanoe days already, so maybe she didn't think it could get any worse from here.

Emma, look, I would LOVE to try and prove you right. But …

"Think any harder and your brain might explode," Emma said then with a small smile. "You ok?"

 _People are asking questions and you're gonna want to talk about it. I KNOW you'll eventually wanna talk about it. You'll ask and I won't have answers. I don't think I'll ever really have answers for you. You deserve way better than this shit. I'm fucked, TOTALLY fucked_.

SHUT UP, HEAD.

Look, these days I only know of one totally sure fire method of squashing the son of a bitch inside my head. Without much thought, I moved so I sat up on my knees. Leaning forward, I kissed her swiftly and deeply before anything else could be said. She seemed to be taken aback slightly at how out of the blue it was, but I was relentless. I towered over her on my knees, pressing in closer, my fingers pressing into her sides. Yes, let's just do this, consume her until there's nothing left to think about. Drown in her. Eventually, she murmured, "Yeah, ok …" with a slight smile gracing her lips, moving to wind her hands into my hair. Her tongue was fire and it always made me want to just lie back and let her do whatever the fuck she wanted to me, but NOPE.

Not this time.

I needed control this time.

"No way," I whispered against her lips, dragging her hands out of my hair. "This time is mine."

"Freeeeeed," Emma moaned. I wasn't quite sure if her words were in complaint, or whether it was because my fingers had slid firmly down her body. I reached the edge of her ridiculously striped leggings, but she protested once more.

"Quit complaining, you always get to be on top!" I pulled back to say.

"'cause I'm a much better driver, and you fuckin' know it."

"Look, I'll make it worth it, ok?" I said, bending so far over her now that she was forced to lie back, starting to slide heavily down the pillows. I ghosted my lips over her face, pressing them into her hairline, her ears, the line of her jaw. I was hoping to distract her enough that she'd simply let it go, but another whine forced me to whisper, " _Emma, I promise I'll make you come so hard that you'll scream_."

Emma had the gall to scoff in my face.

"As if! Like I ever scream."

Well.

"CHALLENGE ACCEPTED."

"What? No, Fred–!" Emma's protests were muffled by my mouth once again devouring hers as I dragged her leggings down and off, along with her underwear. I aimed for the washing basket but to be honest, I was so preoccupied that I didn't even care if they hit the floor or not. If there was one thing I knew that I could do without freaking out, without panicking, it was making Emma come within an inch of her life and Jesus Christ, I was going to do it! I didn't let my lips leave hers as I moved to kneel between her legs, reaching out and tugging on them not-so-gently. She slid down the bed those last few inches until she was now lying completely flat underneath me. Her head hit the pillow and I followed, crushing our bodies together. She let out a moan, her fingers seeking out my hair once more, but I let her this time just to mix it up a little. Her legs locked tight around me and if there weren't still a few annoying layers of clothing between us, I might've taken a different tactic. But I had a plan.

Maybe I was still thinking too much. You wouldn't think that my brain would be concentrating on anything other than her, especially as I peeled her t-shirt away, replacing material with scalding hands and lips. But if there's anything my brain apparently knows how to do, it's have a good panic! Maybe I was a bit too rough travelling across her chest to her neck, as Emma muttered, "Christ on a bike …" I murmured some kind of apology as I moved to her collar bone, and she didn't protest. It's a spot of hers, not entirely sure why, but it never fails to make her gasp whenever I bit it lightly.

Thankfully, the screaming in my brain was finally dulling to just a low roar with every swirl of my tongue. The feeling that I was on some kind of collision course felt faintly normal now, or at least that was how I felt basically every time I so much as looked at her. Now THAT was something I could handle! I could sense her wanting to respond, wanting to make this more of an equal effort, but she held herself back. She knew.

She always knows. It's partly why she's amazing.

Much to her disappointment (probably) I didn't spend too long in any one spot. Just enough to make her wild-eyed, then I'd carry on down her body once more. I spread kisses, licks and bites down her breasts, her ribs, abdomen, the crease of her thigh …

Emma was flushed and straining, breathing hard, but that was normal and this had to be spectacular. If she was gonna scream, I had to make her go fucking crazy. I know I was already going fucking crazy, but we had to get on the same level here. The ridiculous woman, however, still had it in her to gasp out,

"You – you don't still think I'm gonna scream, do you?"

"You bloody asked for it," I grinned against her skin.

I started with each leg, always bypassing in between as I worked my way up. Thing is, I knew Emma, and that seemed like such a bad thing like, ten minutes ago. Now, I was so grateful in that I knew exactly what she liked, exactly what her body responded to. When I finally hit home, she let out a strangled sigh that hit me in every which way. "Fuuuuuck, fuck … fuck …" she groaned. Why was her knowing me a bad thing again? This, this was all good. Too good. This was exactly what I needed, and I could feel it, she was going to get there, she was TOTALLY going to scream. She didn't last super long, although apparently tonight she didn't care so much about that, as trying not to make a sound. She attempted to muffle herself with her arm, but I pulled both her hands away, reaching up and linking our fingers so that she had nothing holding her back.

I have literally never loved my name more than when she's screaming it.

"I didn't – I did not–" Of course Emma was arguing literally as soon as she could string words together once more. I let out a loud snort of laughter, resting my head against her stomach.

"YA, ok."

"I'm tellin' ya, I didn't scream!"

"Oh, don't give me that shit," I laughed as I glanced up to meet her eyes. "Mrs Ramsey across the hall probably heard that!"

"That was a – a strangled yell," Emma insisted.

"Just admit it. You screamed my name."

"I said I YELLED it, there's a difference!"

"Emmaaaaaa–"

"You know who's gonna be screaming?" Emma suddenly sat up then, pushing on my chest. Surprised, I moved with her and she quickly yanked my t-shirt over my head before saying, "YOU."

Fuckity fuck.

"Um, I don't–"

"Oh, don't worry. I'll admit that I screamed," Emma grinned, before shoving me unceremoniously back onto my bed. I hit it with a _whoosh_ , but it was actually her straddling my thighs that knocked the breath out of my lungs. "If you admit that you did too."

Her hands were already at the fly of my jeans, the button popping open and her fingers purposefully grazing against me as she pulled down the zipper. I would certainly admit that I was more than a little scared right now, since half the stuff I knew she could do with that tongue of hers made me a dead man. But I just meekly nodded to her terms before letting her tug my jeans and boxers down my legs.

For the record, I screamed as well.

* * *

A few days later, I edged awkwardly into the lobby of the Cursebreaker Division. I couldn't quite explain why I was acting so edgy now, because I literally turn up at Emma's work all the time. Like, to the point where the crazy receptionist I swear knows me by name, although perhaps that wasn't a good thing, as I'm pretty sure she doesn't like me very much. "Goood morning, Heather! You look ravishing today," I said cheerfully at the desk. "Can you guess who I'm here to see? Go on, I dare you to guess!"

Heather just glowered at me.

"Ok, so you don't wanna guess–"

"How in the name of Merlin Agent Terry hasn't cursed you dead by this point is beyond me," she said.

"Oh, Heather, you charmer! So I can go through, then?"

She sighed and gestured a hand.

"Thanks, honey! You're a star!" I called back at her vaguely as I quickly hurried through the lobby before anyone could notice me. The Cursebreaker Division was the usual bustling and heaving corridor lined with offices, doors and other corridors branching off to what I assumed were the labs, various holding rooms and probably an entrance to the bank itself somewhere. I don't know, how these people haven't tunnelled out and made a bid for freedom with a million Galleons in tow was beyond me. I knew that Emma often worked down in the labs, but usually just hanging around in her office was fun enough until she showed up. Normally, I would meander my way down and let myself get distracted by others who worked here, but today I practically sprinted. In fact, I nearly literally ran into several people, including one bloke who was carrying a tray of precious stones and practically bit my head off in response.

"I said I was sorry! Jesus …" I muttered.

"Whoa – HEY, FRED!"

I leapt a mile as apparently, Libby had found me. Of course, I had paused right outside her open office and it seemed that she practically thrown herself across her desk in order to catch my attention as I walked past. Oh god. My heart hammering jacked up to eleven as I plastered on a grin and warbled,

"My dear Libby! What up?"

" _What up?_ " Libby said in disbelief. "I haven't seen you in bloody weeks, and you ask me 'what up'? You get your arse in here, that's what up!"

Shit. This was why I had been running. I didn't want to get waylaid, I wanted to hide from everyone. If I didn't see anyone, then nobody could ask me questions! I'd learned my lesson from Sapphire, and as I'd discovered, this way nobody could grill me. Unfortunately, Libby had caught me, and from the look on her face, I was going to be barbeque once she was done with me.

"It's so good to see you," Libby said as I leaned tentatively against her desk. "Clara hasn't done any disappearing acts since you told me about your time, I'm afraid. She misses you, I'm sure."

"I'm sorry, were you hoping to accidentally lose your daughter?" I snorted.

"Signs of magic, Fred!" Libby said enthusiastically. She sat back down into her chair heavily, staring at what looked like endless files of paperwork in front of her and sighed so loudly that the paper fluttered. "Ugh. Look at this shit, Fred. Look at it!"

"Oh, I'm looking."

"Do it for me?"

"You're forgetting that I don't know a bloody thing about Cursebreaking," I grinned. "You know, apart from the fact that it's apparently not 'chasing mummies'."

"I was supposed to be working in the lab today, but Lila asked me to swap with her," Libby told me. "Always knew I couldn't trust her, that bitch."

"Aaaanyway," I said, slowly backing up a little. "On that note, I'll let you curse Lila in peace! I promise I'll come visit you, James and the Tiny Human soon–"

"Whoa, hold up!" Libby reached up and snatched at my wrist before I could really get anywhere. "What, pray tell, are you doing here in the first place?"

WELP, now I can't breathe. But when DON'T I crash the Cursebreaker Division? Stay calm, Fred, I just had to … play it cool? Yes, play it cool, mate, Libby don't know shit. I come here all the time, it's FIIIIINNNNNEEE! I tugged my wrist back, trying to lean nonchalantly against the desk again. Unfortunately, my hand slipped on the edge and I stumbled slightly. Libby watched in amusement as I tried to say as casually as possible, "Why am I ever here? To see my ladies!"

"So basically, Emma."

"Well, uh, yeah."

"She's in the morgue," Libby smirked. "New shipment came in from the dig site near Alexandria."

"No way! She's doing an autopsy on an actual live mummy?"

"Ok, for the record, mummies are never 'live' by the time they leave the site," Libby pointed out.

"But you admit that they were alive at some point?"

" _They're dead!_ " Libby said exasperatedly. "The last time they were alive was over thousands of years ago!"

"Uh-huh. Sure. I think I've just stumbled on the beginnings of an elaborate conspiracy within the Cursebreaker Division!" I teased. "What are the ethics about killing an undead mummy? Do the Cursebreakers get paid extra for their crimes? How deep does this thing go?"

"You suck, Fred," Libby swivelled in her chair so that she could kick me in the shin.

"OW!" I complained. "And you knew that!"

"Can we please go back to the time where you hated me?"

"I never hated you," I scoffed. "Or maybe I did a little … I don't fucking know, it was too long ago. I swear, you and James have been together for eons now, it's sickening."

"You're so sweet."

"Are you gonna let me go now?"

"So you can have free reign of Emma's office while you wait for her? No way," Libby said at once, that mischievous smirk coming to her face once more. See, I've speculated already whether Libby knew about Emma, and it was getting harder and harder to push aside the misgivings. True, I guess I hadn't really seen her that often over the last few weeks. I hadn't actually seen much of anyone really, except for Emma … maybe that was what was making her so suspicious. Emma is her best friend, after all, and hell, the look on her face said everything!

I am so fucked.

"Well, what do you want with me, then?"

"Talk to me! We haven't talked in ages," Libby said, resting her chin in her hands, elbows planted on her desk. "I only have boring baby stories to tell you, so I'm sure whatever's happening in your life is way more riveting than mine."

"I … went to a work friend's birthday party," I floundered for literally anything else to tell her. "I … had chicken for dinner last night? My life is boring too, Libby."

"Hmmm. Is it really?"

I glared at her for several seconds. Then –

" _You know about Emma, don't you?_ "

"YES, YES, OH MY GOD!" Libby suddenly yelled, leaping up in her excitement. "FINALLY, FRED!"

"Fucking Jesus, did she tell you?"

"OF COURSE SHE BLOODY TOLD ME!" Libby yelled, throwing her arms in the air. "She literally told me everything, I've been trying to get you to tell me about it ever since that first night! WHY WOULD YOU NOT TALK TO ME ABOUT IT? Fred, I am betrayed, BETRAYED, I TELL YOU!"

"Libby!" I cried. "I haven't even talked to James about it, let alone–"

"Ohhh, trust me I know," Libby said. "And let me tell you, that boy is suuuper pissed!"

"You guys are crazy, this isn't a big deal."

"The hell it bloody isn't! It's Emma, YOU AND EMMA!" Libby apparently couldn't contain herself anymore, and she leapt forward to hug me. Blimey! It never even occurred to me that the two of them might be mad, but it was true that I hadn't said anything in hopes that nobody would ever know. I mean, I knew it was going to eventually come out. How many times do I have to remind myself that there are no secrets in the Weasley family? It would start with Sapphire somehow getting details out of me, but of course Emma told Libby, who told James and it was only going to keep spreading from there. Not from the lack of being able to keep secrets, but because it wasn't as if this was some super dark secret that could feasibly not be talked about. There was nothing shameful or embarrassing about the fact that yeah, I was sleeping with Emma again. I shouldn't be afraid of talking about it, _I know_ I really shouldn't.

I just … was.

I guess I was still scared of it becoming too real.

"Ok, ok, you can let me go now," I begged, two seconds away from prising Libby's arms off me. She complied though, stepping back and sitting back down, letting me breathe once more.

"Sorry," she grinned. "I'm just so proud."

I sighed. I was going to regret this, but as concluded a moment ago while she squeezed the life out of me, I probably needed to work on being so afraid. No, I definitely still couldn't talk to Emma about whatever the fuck was happening, but perhaps I could work up to that? Perhaps, I could just start with Libby. Unlike Sapphire, who had to practically force information out of me with pliers, I could … what, try and offer details without screaming or vomiting?

Hells bells, I am SO fucked.

"I'm sorry I haven't talked about it," I muttered quietly.

"Nah, I get it," Libby said to me. "You're Fred. Just the fact that you're even in a relationship at all is a sight to behold."

"I never said we were in a relationship!"

"Then what in the name of Merlin are you guys calling it, then?" Libby raised an eyebrow.

I swallowed around the panic in my throat. Just talk! Hell, you might even find it makes you feel better!

"We, erm, don't really call it anything …" I said awkwardly, unable to look at her. "We don't talk about it. It happens, and that's enough for now."

"Ok, fine. We'll have the 'talk to her' conversation later. Just tell me, when the hell did it all start?" Libby asked. "Emma's told me her side, but I want to hear yours."

"Sweet Jesus … I can't believe I'm going to say any of this, but I guess things got better after Rose's birthday a couple months ago?" I winced at the ridiculous smile that was blooming across Libby's face at my words. "We nearly kissed … um, then one night I took her out on a case with me and it just spiralled, I guess. God, why do you even want to hear this?" I asked. "We're practically related, you don't want to hear about us having sex."

"Are you bloody kidding me?!" Libby cried. "TELL ME ABOUT ALL THE SEX!"

"Well, this is a conversation I never thought we'd ever end up in."

"Quit stalling," Libby waved a hand. "Obviously it wasn't your FIRST first time, but was it good? Are you guys happy? Have you been having as much sex as humanely possible these last two months or whatever and that's why I've barely seen you? Is it hot and magical and you can't imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else–?"

"LIBBY."

"Just tell me you're happy!" she pleaded. "Please?"

I closed my eyes a moment, letting out a breath. This woman was going to kill me someday soon, and it's weird, because I always thought that job would go to Emma. "Fine, yes! I am way too fucking ridiculously happy. And for what it's worth, I think Emma is too."

Libby squeaked and bit her fist.

"You're not gonna hug me again, are you?" I eyed her warily.

"I am trying SO HARD to refrain myself."

"Thank you, I guess," I huffed. "For like, listening, or whatever the fuck. I don't even know."

"I don't think Emma will mind if I tell you that yeah," Libby said. "She's happy too."

Well, that at least made me feel like the last ten excruciating minutes were worth it. I think my heart was somewhere up in my throat still and my hands were sweating something fierce. It was disgusting, but I suddenly wanted to know everything that Emma had ever told Libby. She was happy, that's great! But I wanted to know what she thought. I wanted to know if she was frustrated whenever I struggled to hold her. I wanted to know if she liked eating breakfast at my place, or whether she would rather go back home. I wanted to know all these things without having to actually ask Emma, so I guess Libby was the next best thing.

"Good. Um …" I hesitated. "What else has Emma, erm, told you?"

"HA. Nice try, mate," Libby smirked. "but you ain't getting anything else out of me! See, I know how this works. I tell you everything, and you come up with even more excuses to not talk to her. See, I said that conversation would come up later, right? So I'm not telling."

"Liiiiiibby!" I whined.

"You wanna know what she says about you? Ask her yourself!"

"You're no fun. At least tell me that she hasn't said anything weird?"

"I swear to god, we have not discussed your dick size, if that's what you're scared of," Libby snorted. "I love you, but that is something I literally would want hexed from my brain."

"Oh, good. Here was me thinking she was saying something embarrassing."

"Fred, look, I know you've got issues," Libby rolled her eyes. "I KNOW. It's ok to spend some time just having fun, not worrying about it, because lord knows that it's taken a long time to get to this point. But just remember that eventually, you will have to talk to her. No relationship is gonna last when nobody says anything. Emma will literally not take any shit from you, you know that. You know that she's going to need something else from you at some point."

"I know!" I said. "I … look, I'm talking to you. I think this is the first time I've ever really willingly acknowledged it to someone else, so I'm building up, ok? I thought I was doing a pretty good job!"

"You are," Libby assured me. "Seems like yesterday you were the emotionally constipated idiot who was crashing my anniversary date."

" _Sebastian Fucking Cortez_ …" I growled.

"Yeah, Sebastian Fucking Cortez!" Libby laughed. "Good times! We had a nice second anniversary, thanks for asking, by the way."

"Did you have a nice second anniversary?" I took the bait.

"It was LOVELY!" Libby grinned. "We got Emma to babysit, so we stayed out all night – as you might recall, you turned up, remember?"

"To be honest," I said. "That was roughly when I was being a bit of a dickhead and was freaking out over the fact that Emma was going to be there soon, so really, I don't remember much from that evening."

"Yeah, you did scarper pretty quickly, now that I remember."

"But the anniversary was good, yeah?"

"Had dinner, went out dancing, had club sex like we were horny teenagers," Libby smirked. "It was fantastic."

"Swell. Well, surely Emma's shift is over by now, so ima just–"

"Not so fast!" Libby pointed a finger at me and I was once again forced to pause in my efforts to finally escape the office. "Fred Weasley, know that I am honestly so proud of you."

"Libby Fletcher, know that I am slightly scared of you," I replied. "but, uh, thanks."

To my utter relief, she let me go then. I think I almost cried once I was outside her door, but I held it together until I got to Emma's office. Luckily, she wasn't there yet, so I got some privacy as I slammed the door shut and let out a disbelieving yell. OH MY GOD. I actually talked about it! About her, or – oh, you know. For an emotionally constipated idiot, I wasn't doing too damn badly! Libby was proud of me, James was probably going to rip my head off when I finally got round to talking to him, and Emma was happy. She was happy with me! I'd been so sure that this had to be the most complicated, messed up thing she'd ever been in, even though she had moments (usually in the dark of my bedroom) where she certainly looked like she was content. But Libby's word is law! SHE'S HAPPY!

… oh, dear god, she's happy.

What if I fucked up again? She would never forgive me. I'd never forgive me! Libby wouldn't, James wouldn't, hell, I think it's safe to say that the entire fucking PLANET wouldn't forgive me if I screwed up in some way. Naturally, I started to panic again, sinking into Emma's desk chair. She had to be just waiting for me to mess up. I know I was. I'd eventually do something, because I always do something, right? I'm Fuck Up Fred. I don't even deserve her.

I took a deep shuddering breath, pressing my fingers into my eyes for a moment. Calm the hell down. You made the decision, you decided to fling yourself off the edge of that cliff and into this thing! You can sure as hell see it out. I managed to pull myself together long enough to glance up and thankfully, I could concentrate instead on observing Emma's office. It was about as messy as her flat, which didn't surprise me one bit, but what did was when I noticed the edge of a battered photo shoved underneath several files on her desk. It looked like it had slipped out from between the small elephant statues that were supposed to be keeping it up, instead hidden away. I pulled it out, curious, and noticed that it was a photo of us.

Quite honestly, I couldn't remember the photo being taken. It was in the same dimensions as if it had been taken on a cell phone, but I guess Emma had doused her photos in the developing potion that makes them move, since tiny photographic me was lifting an entire bottle of wine into the air triumphantly. Great, thanks Emma. The background looked like a bar of some kind as Emma cheered next to me, her arms wrapped around my waist. I watched us for a moment, concluding that from the huge pile of winter jackets that could be seen just at the edge of the photo, it had to be winter sometime. The only winter we'd been friends had been right after Rose and Scorpius' wedding, when we were still tentatively trying to work a friendship out. Apparently, drunk us didn't care that we hardly knew each other. Drunk us were having a great time!

I hastily shoved the photo back under Emma's files. I think I had something in my eye.

"I'm sorry, am I somehow accidentally harbouring a fugitive that I didn't know about?" Emma's voice suddenly cut in from the doorway.

"Noooo," I called out, trying to cover the fact that I'd jumped by leaning back casually in Emma's chair. She watched me from the door to her office in amusement as I threaded my hands behind my head. "Unless you count your boss, of course. That hair is criminal enough."

"Small problem, Director Gale is not in my office, and he would also kill you if he heard that," Emma snorted. "So what the hell are you doing here?"

"I can't just drop by?"

Emma rolled her eyes, moving further into her office, carrying a clipboard in her arms. She used it to nudge at my head, saying, "Do I get my chair, or what?"

"Emma, I am your guest!"

"Douchebag. Don't test me, I WILL sit on you."

I laughed, but decided that I would head her words and not test her. I relinquished the chair and Emma sat down, tossing the clipboard onto her desk. I made the mistake of glancing down at it and recoiled in horror. "EW, CHRIST ON A BIKE, EMMA!"

"What?" she glanced over at the very open case file and the several very revealing autopsy photos she had clipped there. "Oh, relax Fred, the bloke's been dead for ages."

"Why is he inside out?!"

"Wizards got very creative in their curses," Emma shrugged. "I once autopsied a woman with three heads and no arms, once."

"You sound actually excited."

"THREE HEADS, FRED!"

"Yeah, ok, you need help," I rolled my eyes, picking up the clipboard and turning it over, gingerly.

"Don't be a baby, it's just a decomposing corpse," Emma snorted. "And a really interesting one, at that! Turns out that the inside out curse is quite popular, he wasn't the only one–"

"Aaaand I am done talking about mummies," I cut in hastily.

"Honestly, this guy was not mummified!" Emma protested.

"Whatever, they're all dead to me," I shrugged. "Anyone who can look at rotting flesh without flinching at least a little terrify me. Anyway," I nudged her leg with my knee, glancing away from her amused face. "were you planning on coming over tonight?"

"If I didn't, I'm sure you'd have a way of convincin' me," Emma smirked.

"You make it sound like I'm dragging you back to my lair against your will!" I complained. "Honestly. I only ask because I've got this stupid shop thing tonight and probably won't get back 'til late anyway, so you're probs better off just staying at home."

"What stupid shop thing is this?" Emma asked.

"Oh, it's the joke shop," I rolled my eyes. My stupid owl was still fucking up, so of course I'd gotten Roxanne crashing my flat this morning YET AGAIN, just to remind me about the annual anniversary party. You know, I might not have even gone to this thing if Ravi would have just done his fucking job and delivered my mail like a normal owl, but naturally, we were at the point of my parents actually wondering if I was dead, so I figured I'd better at least make an appearance. I explained to Emma, "It was this time in June when my dad and his twin brother first set up the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes mail order. Dad calls it the anniversary of when the shop first really came into existence and every year, he throws a wild party that always gets out of hand. Everyone gets drunk, my family embarrasses itself, it's your typical shindig."

"Sounds like the Weasley's," Emma mentioned.

"Yeah, you picked the wrong family to associate with."

"I have been reminded constantly," Emma said. "Well, if you're goin', I clearly can't miss it!"

"Emma, did you not hear the part where my family embarrasses itself?" I repeated. "I wasn't kidding! Last year, I swear Uncle Percy drank an entire keg of cider and gave a rousing rendition of Adele's _Hello_ from on top of the front counter."

"You're not doing too well in convincing me not to come," Emma grinned.

"Turns out the cider wasn't even alcoholic in the end, Emma."

"Oh my god."

"And that's just the start of it!" I cried. "Dad always cries, my cousin Dom is guaranteed to snog literally anyone she can get her hands on, Aunt Audrey gets waaaay too touchy feely when she's drunk and Rose will recite her entire Healer text book to anyone who will listen, which normally means the coat rack!"

"And how is that any different from our parties, may I ask?" Emma asked in amusement.

"You're not coming!"

"Yes, I'm well aware of what you've decided," Emma said. "And I respectfully disagree."

" _Emma_ –"

"Fred, I know your family," Emma laughed, though I noticed her eying me slightly. "I went to Rose and Scorpius' wedding, I know how wild things can get! And it's not like you don't want to see me, right?"

She hesitated for just slightly too long to pass that off as a casually tossed out joke. I looked up straight away and though her eyes were glittering, the rest of her was wary. Ok, maybe no, I didn't want her to come for more than just that. She was right, she already knew my family was fucking nuts, but this would be the first real family get together with us … you know. They'd ask questions I wouldn't be able to answer. My cousins would poke fun and my mother will probably have an aneurism!

But Emma wasn't going to accept that and she knew that I knew it.

"Fine," I grumbled. "We're going. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"I consider myself fully warned," Emma said cheerfully. I also noticed her mutter, " _Yes!_ " under her breath and I tried not to grin too much.

Hey, at least maybe I could try and get another photo with her tonight.

* * *

I found myself staring at the large portrait of my dad and his twin brother.

Oh, don't worry, behind me the party was raging! You know the Weasley family, nothing is ever half-arsed. It was appropriately dark and loud inside the joke shop. You wouldn't think you could have much of a party with the shelves and displays everywhere, but people partied down the aisles (I'm pretty sure that was Auntie Fleur starting a conga line) and Dom was already flirting! The lights were flashing and I'd accidentally lost Emma somewhere as she went to talk to I think Rose or someone, but that was ok for now.

The portrait had been hung behind the front counter of the shop for as long as I could remember. Dad had apparently gotten it painted from a photo of the two of them from when they were about 18. Somehow, the painting hadn't been damaged much in the explosion a couple years ago. Well ok, perhaps there were some scratches along the frame and a hole in the bottom right corner, but it had character now! Yeah, totally.

(Not my fault).

People always say that no one could tell my dad and his twin apart, and yeah, they're identical. But even identical twins you can get to know well enough eventually that you can spot things that tell them apart. I always knew which one was my dad, even though him and his painted brother kept switching positions to throw people off, like a sideshow ball and cup game.

It was one of the few images I'd ever seen of my dad looking well and truly happy.

"WEEEELLLL, WELL, WELL," James' loud voice suddenly burst in. "If it isn't the bastard himself!"

"Lovely to see you, too," I said dryly.

"Were you EVER planning on seeing me again?" James complained, throwing an arm around my shoulders as I snorted. "Or is this it? Have I just completely lost my best friend to the world of amazing, regular sex, doomed to only hear about him through others?"

"Shut up, dickhead," I scoffed, shoving him away.

James laughed, before glancing up at the portrait as well. He frowned as the brothers switched places once more and he said, "I can never tell which one's Uncle George."

"He's the one with the slightly bigger head."

"I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear that," James said. He moved towards the front counter of the shop, jumping up to sit on top of it. I turned around to face him in amusement as he carried on dramatically over the loud music. "Seriously! Libby told me everything, were you honestly NEVER going to say anything?"

"Um, let me see … YES?" I said.

"MATE."

"Oh, what the fuck would you even want to know?" I protested. "It's my life, James!"

"Oh, I see how it is now," James tugged a handful of receipts off the spike that usually housed them on the front counter and screwed them up into a ball, hurling it at my head. It disintegrated before it could reach me, but I got the sentiment. "You've moved on! Our friendship is nothing to you anymore, Libby is your Number One Mate now. Well, fine, I didn't care anyway–"

"Shut the hell up before I push you off the bloody counter," I rolled my eyes, stepping closer. "How are you even surprised that I didn't tell you?"

"I'm not," James said, the dramatics at least over now, apparently. "but damn, mate, you talked to Libby first! I'm only a little jealous."

"Gahhhh!" I grumbled, shoving my head roughly onto the counter top next to James. "Why are you and the rest of the goddamn planet so obsessed with me and Emma?"

"Because it's you," James pointed out as I continued banging my head. "YOU. People were the same when I got together with Libby."

" _We're not together!_ "

"I didn't say you were!"

"You so implied it," I growled.

"Ok," James shoved a hand between my forehead and the counter, forcing me to cease the banging. I straightened reluctantly as James grinned down at me. "So let me try and get this straight," he said. "You're sleeping with Emma. Again. You're still friends … and it's not a relationship?"

"I don't know what to call it!" I cried. "It's a … a thing!"

"Yeah, OKAY."

"I don't know how to describe it," I complained. "James, just believe me, I don't know what the hell is happening, I don't know what we're doing, all I know is that I am still so fucking in love with her, so I'm taking it as it comes!"

James smirked at me, which I didn't like.

"You scared?" he asked.

"Terrified. Literally every second of every day, but I'm still here aren't I?"

"I felt the same," James pointed out.

I guess I never thought of that. I think of James and I as being so different now that I literally forgot that we had once been the same. I had hardly ever spoken to him about Libby in those early days, for fear that he would figure out how much he actually loves her and wasn't just fucking it out of his system. But hey, they've had a baby since then, forgive me for forgetting some of the details along the way. I suppose it might not have been complete bliss the entire time.

"Oh, those were the days," I said.

"Seriously, Fred, I've been where you are," James pointed out.

"That's great! Yeah, totally, I don't feel so alone anymore."

"Oh, would you stop arsing about for a moment? I'm trying to have a serious moment here!"

"Look, mate," I said, warily. "To be honest, I don't want to be serious right now. You felt the same, that's great, it's nice to know that I'm not just a total Commitment Phobe and that there's light at the end of the tunnel or whatever the loving fuck you meant, but I LITERALLY cannot talk about it right now."

"Because talking about it would make it seem real, right?" James said.

Well, shit damn, fuck a damn. The boy has me pegged.

"Go and drink another Firewhiskey, James."

"You know I'm right!" James laughed. He jumped off the counter, throwing his arm around me once more and squeezing my shoulders tightly. "Hey, mate, great talk. Wonderful reciprocal conversation of back and forth exchange. Let's go get that drink."

It really hadn't been much of a conversation, but apparently James was willing to accept it. Thankful that the topic had been dropped, James cheerfully led me through the crowd of partiers. Pop music was seriously blasting now, and the conga line was so long that it snaked down three separate aisles. I saw Mum somewhere in there, calling out to me happily, and I waved while simultaneously trying not to cringe.

At varying points, Dad would try and rein the party in, make it about the shop once more, keep to the professional idea, but it would all fall apart within five minutes. Hey, man, at least he was trying! He attempted many speeches, but they all ended with him sobbing into his wine and the several people immediately around him clapping enthusiastically. Aunt Hermione was clearly very drunk, which was always fun to see since it was usually her trying to keep Uncle Ron in check. When she saw James and I, she flung her arms around both of us, crying,

"My precious nephews! I love you both so much – _so much_ – Fred, do you still have my flask of whiskey?"

"Your what?" James laughed but I remembered her handing such a thing to me at Rose and Scorpius' wedding.

"Aunt Hermione, I got you covered," I told her, pulling it out of my pocket. She kissed my head before offering her own whiskey to each of us. James declined, but I was never going to pass up an opportunity to drink with Aunt Hermione.

Further into the night and about a dozen more drunk speeches later, I finally found Emma once more. However, I ground to a halt immediately, my insides freezing in terror when I realised that she was talking to my dad.

MY DAD.

OH, FUCK.

ABORT MISSION.

"Fred!" Emma was apparently completely shit-faced, which seemed fitting for the occasion, but I think my hands were still shaking slightly. Dad had to be about as drunk as her as the two of them had apparently been holding onto a shelf with their non-drink hands to keep themselves upright. Of course, the second she saw me Emma had to step away and reach out. She plummeted to the floor and I hastily skidded forward to keep her head from hitting the ground.

"Keeeeep it together, girl! Are you ok?" I asked as Emma giggled.

"'mm fine, fine!" she waved a hand gingerly as I held her up, taking another drink from the glass of wine in her hand. "Fred – Fred – I've been talkin' to your dad, 'e 'is sooo much fun!"

"I love this girl!" Dad insisted.

"That's great, Dad," I answered.

"Fred, Fred, e's been tellin' me all about Fred!" Emma frowned a moment, her nose wrinkled. "Wait–"

"You mean my uncle Fred, don't worry," I snorted. "I get it."

"There's too many Freds. I'm gettin' confused," she muttered sadly.

"I thought people would get confused too!" Dad told her seriously. "Don' worry. Loadsa people didn't want me to call him Fred, actually, but FUCK 'EM."

"Dad!"

"What?" Dad grinned at me like he'd only just noticed I was there. "Ohhhh, c'mere, mate! I'm so glad you came!" he added, reaching out and apparently forcibly pulling me into a hug. Since I couldn't exactly let go of Emma for fear that she would plunge to her death again, she got dragged in too. I groaned in exasperation as he ruffled my hair before letting us go. "Thank you for coming tonight! Both of you, both of you … this would mean a lot to Fred."

"UNCLE Fred," Emma helpfully pointed out.

"Yeah, I get it," I told her once more. She took another drink, leaning heavily into my side as her head tipped back. I tightened my arm around her waist as I said to Dad, "It's fine. Look, Dad, if you don't mind, I think I'm gonna steal Emma here, ok?"

"STEAL ME!" Emma yelled, throwing her arms into the air and splashing me with the last remains of her wine. "Wait, why?"

"Because I am absolutely certain that you have definitely had enough to drink," I smirked at her.

"Oh, Freeeeed," she whined.

I pressed my face close to her ear for a moment, whispering, " _That's what you'll say later_."

She laughed, before turning her head and planting a sudden kiss straight on my lips before I could even think. I heard Dad say, "WHOOOOOAAAA!" as Emma's hand behind my back slowly wandered down. Before she could get there though, I pulled back hastily.

"Yeah, save it for later, Princess," I joked quickly.

"Fred, is this the Emma you've mentioned before?"

"The one that Roxie has no doubt told you everything about?" I asked. "Possibly. We're gonna go now."

"But I like talkin' to your dad!" Emma protested as I took her wine glass off her and put it down on the shelf. "Nooooo, I'll see you againnnnn!" She left a hand outstretched towards my dad as I practically dragged her away. He held out his own hand to her comically and I might've laughed if my brain wasn't going a hundred miles a second.

"Seriously, Fred, your dad is fuuun!" Emma told me as we continued through the crowd. She glanced up at me and added, "You're hot."

"Thanks," I snorted. "You're hot, too. My dad, on the other hand, will hopefully never remember this encounter."

"You don' want me talkin' to 'im?" Emma asked, sounding confused once again.

"No – I don't bloody know, Emma," I sighed. I had paused somewhere near the drinks table, and I stared at the free alcohol which no doubt was the only thing that brought people to this totally professional party in the first place. I don't know what I had felt seeing her talking to my dad. I felt like I was scared of fucking everything these days – scared that Dad would hate her, that he'd like her, that it was such a couple thing to do, to meet their parents, that I had literally never felt this much emotion for one human being in my entire life, that one of these days I was going to have to sit down with my brain and have a good talk about accepting that this wasn't just a thing …

"I'll …" I struggled for words. "I'll tell you once I've figured something out."

"And then we'll be righ'?"

"Emma, we are already right!" I insisted. "We'll just be … righter? Wait–"

But Emma was already laughing again, and if there's anything in this world that made things better, it was hearing Emma laugh. She turned in my arms so that she could wrap hers around my waist. Her hands began to wander once more, which didn't surprise me in the slightest, since both of us did tend to get rather handsy when we were drunk.

"C'mon, mate, you needa catch up!" Emma insisted.

"I might have some trouble doing that with your hands down my trousers."

She just gave a wicked look, stretching up onto her toes to kiss me deeply.

The party thankfully got a lot more fun after that.

* * *

Look, by this point, I've done my fair share of waking up with Emma. I have to say, though, I have never woken up half-naked on my kitchen floor with her.

"Ohhhh my god," I groaned, my attempts at rolling over falling flat. I couldn't even move! It was probably due to the fact that my arse was numb from apparently sleeping on the hard kitchen floor all night and using what seemed to be my flamingo umbrella stand as a pillow, of all bloody things. When I eventually managed to sit up, my head was pounding and I noticed that I was still wearing a shirt, but no trousers for whatever reason. Like … ok.

Another groan hit the kitchen, and I noticed Emma propped up against the corner cupboards. She was rubbing her forehead as I noticed that she was definitely sans blouse, although her skirt was apparently topped off with a hot pink feather boa which I knew could be found in the costume section of the shop down aisle eight. "Oh god," she complained, glancing down at herself. "Please tell me I didn't get topless until we got home."

"I'd reassure you, but honestly, I don't remember."

"At least I wore a good bra."

"No one would argue that, I'm sure," I glanced down at my umbrella stand, before moving it back upright gently next to me. "Welp. It's nice to know that drunk me still loves this ugly thing. Worth stealing back, amiright?"

Emma laughed, but that soon turned into another garbled moan. "Ugh. Memories of last night can come later. For now, tea. Oh, don't worry, you idiot–" She added before I could even open my mouth to protest. She waved a hand at me and said as she moved off the floor, "I'll make you coffee, ok?"

"My hero. Help me off the floor?"

"Only if you help me find my shirt," Emma threw back.

It took at least twenty minutes of agonised shuffling around my flat to locate Emma's blouse from last night (hung on the coat rack by the front door) and to make our beverages of choice. My flat was an utter mess and it set my teeth on edge, but I couldn't be arsed finding my wand to actually clean it SO … the mess stayed for now. It was more clutter anyway, and besides, this was tidy in Emma's eyes. She eyed the two umbrellas scattered out on the hallway floor, my trousers half stuffed down the side of the sofa and my last three months' worth of subscriptions to _Interior Designs_ accidentally scattered on the floor.

"Blimey," she muttered, sinking down next to me on my sofa. "This kind of feels like déjà vu."

"From when? Oh, thanks," I added, accepting my coffee.

"It was literally ages ago, I just got the sudden memory now," Emma smiled into her tea. "It was James' first ever Quidditch match, and we all celebrated the win at the pub afterwards. We got so insanely drunk that we couldn't even remember how to have sex and just gave up in the end. I remembered just now that we woke up in a situation similar to something like this, although we weren't on the kitchen floor."

"Yeah, I think I might remember that," I pointed out. "Never again! My back already seems to think it has old man bones."

"That was back when we hardly knew each other, Fred."

"Oh, time flies!" I said.

"Seriously. We've come a long way."

I was silent a moment, sipping at my scalding coffee, made exactly the way I liked it. So far, Emma had been about as willing to talk as I was. In fact, that statement was probably the most explicitly 'about us' thing she's said this entire time. I'd always felt reassured that she didn't want to talk about it either. Remember the first few days? Yeah, she definitely didn't want to talk at all!

But what if she'd been holding out this entire time? That would be our thing! Amazing Emma, always waiting for idiot Fred to come to his senses or figure something out. Why she was even still here was a miracle. Whatever this latest transition had been, whatever the hell we were now, it was only possible because Emma was willing to sacrifice so much.

I think I needed to at least try and give something back.

"I, uh …" I began, wincing at the stammer in my voice. "I spoke to Libby yesterday. Actually, 'spoke' is a rather reciprocal term, she more yelled at me, really."

"Yeah?" Emma asked. Neither of us looked at each other.

"Yeah," I confirmed to my coffee. "Turns out that apparently, she knows everything."

A long pause as clearly, Emma tried to gauge my reaction, figure out how to respond. I didn't know if she had enough context to figure out what I was referencing but I couldn't find the words to elaborate, so I stayed silent. Eventually she said,

"Of course she does," I heard the quiet smile in her voice, and I glanced over quickly to see it.

"Completely chewed me out, I'll also have you know," I said. "And it's not just her, she's naturally gone and told James, which means that after the party last night, the entire bloody family will know now, too."

"How's that any different to before?" Emma pointed out casually.

"Well, I mean, before they only assumed we were fucking," I said. "Now, they know it."

 _Wait_.

Shiiiiit. SHIT. I just acknowledged it. The thing, I directly referenced it! Oh my god, I truly just said that, didn't I? I hoped Emma was silently freaking out as much as I was, because I WAS FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! Did this count as talking about it? Could I please cross that off my list now? Because that was truly hard enough, trust me! I think Emma could tell how tense I'd gone and she felt just as shocked next to me as I was, so we both just kept on sitting there like two frozen idiots who had no idea how to do this.

It was literally not much, my brain kept saying. It doesn't count. You are so lame, Fred. Of course you're fucking, it's not hard to admit that! But it was hard for me, ok? I feel like I deserved some credit here!

"I – I mean–" I began, awkwardly.

"I know what you mean," Emma said, softly.

"Good," I glanced up with a half-hearted smile. It grew when I noticed how delighted she looked. I hadn't expected her to be looking at me, but apparently this was a big enough moment for her too and since I had reached out, she apparently wanted to as well.

"For the record, Fred … I am very happy right now."

I am very dead right now, but I still got the vibe.

"Yeah. I am, too."

* * *

A/N: Yes, I am STILL travelling (current location: Los Angeles, USA!) but I am going home to New Zealand in literally just days now! It's kind of surreal and weird to think about. I literally can't thank you all enough for your support and still being here as I travel Le Worlde. :)

Not gonna lie though, writing this chapter was ... hard. Like, I REALLY wanted to get it done, but it was tough trying to get back into it. The editing is probably terrible and I overall just apologise for everything! But I love my dear Fremma, I really do. They are trying so hard and I adore them for it.

Also, I am so sorry that I cannot guarantee that updating will get back on track, even once I'm back home. Mainly because, OH YOU KNOW, once I'm home I then have to sort my entire life out, lol. But hopefully we will slowly get back on track! There's much more Fremma madness to go in this here fic. :D

Just THANK YOU. I love all of you so much and please tell me what you think! I miss you all! x

\- Moon. xoxo


	28. That one time things started changing

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 28: That one time things started changing.

Realistically, I knew I'd get it.

I liked to joke that the Vice Division hated me of course and that they would do anything to keep me out of the entire office, but realistically, yeah … I knew I would probably get a second interview. Auror Huntley had only made sure that I would at least get the first one, so I knew that I was technically on my own from here, but I felt it! I had field experience, I had the right kind of personality, and I had a Head Auror saying that I was a good candidate. You couldn't get any better than that, right? There was a very good chance that I would get through to the next stage, but that didn't stop me from freaking out about it in my own weird way until I actually found out.

"Would you sit the fuck down?" Emma yelled at me from the kitchen.

"HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW I'M NOT SITTING DOWN?"

"Well, are you?" she yelled back.

I just grumbled, plonking myself back down onto my sofa. My fucking crazy owl, Ravi, was of course still AWOL and had been the last several days, which wasn't anything unusual for him. I've said before that he owns me, rather than me owning him. He tends to do whatever the hell he wants, which often results in the huge pile up of mail when he finally does decide to grace me with his presence again.

But demon owls aside, the week we could expect results back was here and I figured that the second my bloody owl showed his face, I would find out whether I was getting a second interview or not. Apparently, I'd been handling the pressure by pacing back and forth and yelling at the TV show that Emma had chosen since she'd thought it might help me calm me down. Apparently you couldn't get any calmer than _The Great British Bake Off_ , but of course I could manage to make anything stressful at this point.

"SELASI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" I yelled at the TV. "YOU KNOW YOUR BUTTERY CRUST IS BETTER THAN ANDREW'S, DON'T COMPLIMENT HIM!"

"You know, I'm starting to think that we would've been better off watching _Star Wars_ after all," Emma mentioned, coming through and leaning against the doorway to the lounge. "Are you gonna calm down any time soon?"

"I AM CALM, BUT _SOMEBODY_ –" I aimed my yell at the screen. "FORGOT THAT HE COULD COOK! THAT PASTRY LOOKS SUBLIME!"

"Fred, I can tell you're not calm."

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW?"

"I swear you've been speaking in all caps the entire day," Emma snorted. "They can probably hear ya in Scotland, mate."

I grumbled some more, sinking even further down into my sofa. Maybe if I just keep doing so, I'll eventually disappear and Emma can read my mail for me. It's not like I even care that much! It's just a stupid interview …

Emma sighed before moving over towards me. She kicked at my legs and I lifted them up so she could move past and sit down on my other side. "You know you want it," she said.

I smiled weakly. "Yeah, I know I want it."

"Good. And you know you're gonna get it, so there's nothin' to worry about. Quit yelling at the bakers on TV, they can't hear ya."

"BUT LOOK AT THAT BREAKFAST PASTRY!" I gestured frantically at the screen.

"I'm behind a few episodes, what's happening now?"

"I don't know, I only watch this anarchy when you make me–"

Our conversation was cut off by a screech. Ravi was apparently deciding it was finally time he waltzed on in, swooping drunkenly through my open lounge window before hitting the lamp and tumbling for the floor. Naturally. He scattered a load of mail across my coffee table before promptly shitting on top of a magazine subscription.

"Cheers, mate," I said.

"Is your owl ok?" Emma asked in concern.

"Oh trust me, he's perfectly sane!" I said as Ravi squawked and flew back off for his perch in the kitchen. I eyed the huge pile of mail as I carried on, "I swear the little cretin does it on purpose, and I'm sorry. I can't do it. Emma, please go through my mail."

"Do I want to?" she asked.

"Do you know me but at all?"

"All right, all right, fine," she said, beginning to sort through the bills and subscriptions. "But I'll have you know that if I find anythin' untoward, you gave me verbal permission to go through this, so no sueing allowed–"

"Yeah, yeah, Princess. But is there anything–?"

It took a few moments to shuffle through all the envelopes and magazines, but eventually, Emma found one that had the stamp of the Auror Office. Oh, shit. I couldn't breathe. She ripped it open with absolutely no hesitation and began to read out loud, despite my protests.

"To Mr Weasley–"

"EMMAAAA, NOOOO–"

"Shut up, you idiot! _Inform you that_ –"

"Just tell me if I got it or not, don't read it out loud–"

"IT'S GOOD, Fred, stop it!" Emma cried, almost laughing as she battered my arms out of the way. I ceased trying to make a wild grab for the letter, heart hammering as she read excitedly, " _We are glad to inform you that we greatly enjoyed meeting you during your first interview with Head Auror Donald Tillman. We believe that your personality and demeanour would fit well with the Auror programme. We would like to schedule a further interview to discuss your advancement in this process, the details of which are below–"_

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

" _DETAILS OF WHICH ARE BELOW_ – blah, blah, blah," Emma skimmed, practically on her knees in her enthusiasm. She turned to face me, chucking the letter over her shoulder. "Fred, you fucking got it!"

"I really did!" I yelled, the letter fluttering somewhere to the floor behind her.

"SECOND INTERVIEW!"

" _SECOND INTERVIEW!_ " I leapt to my feet, not even knowing what to do first. Do I jump after that letter and read it myself? Do I yell out the window that I got it? Do I tell my parents? Jesus, how can something like this drastically change your mood within three seconds? "I am so excited, I think I'm in shock," I ended up saying.

"I can tell, you've stopped yellin'," Emma said, also jumping to her feet, standing on my sofa and apparently hugging a cushion. I stared at her grinning face for a second, before asking,

"Did I SERIOUSLY just get a second interview?"

"You seriously did!" Emma nodded and I whooped, reaching out for her. She read my mind, practically leaping into my arms off my sofa. I laughed as her legs went around me too and I spun her around in delight. This was incredible! I was going to be an Auror some day, I could feel it! Maybe that was still a bit premature of me, but I felt the ball rolling now. It was really happening! Emma was so giddy in her excitement, saying "Oh my god!" over and over. It made me surge with such a swell of emotion as I held her that I didn't quite know how to handle it. She was so happy because of something that _I_ had done. _She was proud of me_. Jesus fuck, I loved her so much.

Whoa.

It surprised me how easy that thought came into my head these days. There was once a time I could barely think it without feeling like I was going to vomit, but now it was getting more and more frighteningly easy to accept. It would float across my consciousness in moments like now when, if I was any sane person, I would probably say it. It was moments like these, when she was wrapped around me, when she was giggling into my neck and squeezing her thighs around my torso that yes, I struggled to bite it back.

But mate, this was a time to be happy. In lieu of the words that I couldn't say, I kissed her instead. Maybe I do that slightly too often, covering up shit and emotions with sex, but it didn't mean that I felt it any less, right? I stood there in my lounge and swallowed my words, thrusting them instead into her mouth. Hell, maybe she'd get it. She would know what I was trying to say. She certainly responded, content apparently and with no qualms at all about me carrying her to bed.

This evening, it was fun. I'd discovered a long time ago that sleeping with Emma was never the same thing twice, and I liked it that way. Sometimes it was passionate, and sometimes we were tender, but right now, it was playful and exciting. She kept giggling as she stayed in my lap, her legs locked around me, my arms holding her as close as I could. _I like you a lot,_ we said as we celebrated. I could feel her grinning under my lips and I was determined to keep that grin. I kissed her everywhere and she kissed me right on back.

 _God, I love you._

"I–"

I don't know what the fuck happened. But the thoughts were rattling around in my head and with Emma wrapped around me, the giddiness of the last several moments, something inside OBVIOUSLY went insane, because I had apparently opened my mouth to say the words. HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT. I choked on them, terrified and then did the only thing I could think of to cover up my mistake:

I kind of bit her shoulder.

"OUCH!" Emma yelped, suddenly jerking away from me. " _Jesus Christ!_ "

"Oh my god – shit – I'm sorry!" I cried.

"What the hell was that for?!" Emma complained.

She had collapsed dramatically back onto my bed, peering down at her shoulder. To my intense horror, I realised that I had apparently bitten her harder than I'd thought. We weren't normally opposed to a small bite here and there, but I had drawn blood! That had been too far. Merlin, WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME?

"I–" I could only watch as Emma gingerly prodded the tender mark on her shoulder. "Christ, Emma, I'm so sorry! I guess I just got too into the moment–"

"You've never bitten me like THAT before!"

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear," I said desperately. "Fuck … I've completely ruined the mood now, haven't I?"

Emma just shot me a look before laughing a little. "Fred, a lot of shit has ruined the mood before, but never you biting me hard enough to draw blood. No more vampire impressions, ok?"

"Done," I said immediately as she carefully picked herself back up again. "Fuck, I feel so bad – I'll do whatever you want, I swear–"

"Well, that's ideal," Emma mentioned lightly. Hopefully, it was looking like her shoulder wasn't really that bad, since she slid like a cat off the bed until she was on her knees. She gestured with a finger and I was powerless to resist, moving until my legs bracketed her. She smirked as she said, "I think it's safer for me if I stay down here, wouldn't you agree?"

"Um–" I did, and yet also didn't like the way she was looking at me.

"Don't worry," she smirked. "I promise I won't bite."

I'm dead.

Sometimes I start thinking about who taught her to swirl her tongue like that, because her skills were out of this fucking world, but then I remember it's probably best not to imagine. My thought processes narrowed to something like _nnngghghhh_ and it was hard to imagine that there was anything else even warranting a mention inside my brain. God, she was perfect. She was amazing and phenomenal and every other meaningless adjective you can think of, and the Fred of several years ago would hate me right now. _I'm sorry, but you nearly told this woman you LOVED her? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!_ He would be utterly screeching! He never would have imagined we got to this point, but we had, I loved her so much.

I am very close to losing it, these days.

Emma refused to stop, even when I warned her, so I figured it was ok to let her fling me over the edge. Like always, she was there to see me through. I was the one this time to collapse back onto my bed, unable to fucking move.

"I – I bite you, and I get _that_ in response," I breathed out. "Somehow, I don't think it's fair."

Emma grinned. She climbed back up onto my bed, curling up next to me, our legs still dangling over the side. She made sure that her bitten shoulder was the one not pressed into the bed and I noticed the teeth marks, the light bruising starting to form. Thank god she wasn't bleeding anymore. Christ on a bike, I am so stupid. This woman deserves the world, someone far better than me who knew how to actually interact properly with other humans without freaking out and sinking his teeth into people instead! I rolled my head over so that we were nose to nose.

"I can return the favour," I offered.

"Don't worry about it," she said, gently.

I frowned. "But –"

"Fred, don't feel bad," Emma said. She reached out, resting the flat of her palm against my chest and it set my heart thrumming incessantly. "Yeah, you threw me, but it's not the end of the world. This ain't the first time you've killed the mood. You just owe me twice as many orgasms next time," she smirked.

"I suck."

"Mmm, I agree," Emma sniggered. "but then, I wouldn't have ya any other way."

"Again, I am so sorry," I said weakly, her thumb rubbing the skin of my chest gently. "Please, no joking, I didn't seriously hurt you right?"

"It hurt initially, but it's always more from the shock of it," Emma said. "I'm fine. Although I didn't think that even I could be hot enough to get ya like that!"

"Fuck off, you're the hottest person I've ever slept with," I threw back. "And excuse me, this isn't the first time I'VE killed the mood? You've killed it on plenty of occasions!"

"Bitch, please. Name one," Emma challenged.

"Has your brain forgotten entirely the time you – oh, I don't know – KICKED ME IN THE FACE?"

Emma snorted, hiding her face into my shoulder. " _Oh my god_."

"YEAH," I said. "I had to tell people at work for weeks that I was punched by a criminal."

"Just for the future," Emma glanced back up, amusement dancing in her eyes. "That position still off the table?"

"For all eternity."

"Shame," she said. "Ok, fine, I'll give you that. BUT, I dare you to name another."

"You fell over trying to give me a striptease once."

"YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TEASE ME ABOUT THAT AGAIN," Emma cried, half sitting up in indignation. "Oh, and we still had sex, so that doesn't count."

"God, that was so fucking funny," I grinned. "I hadn't laughed that hard in ages!"

"You're one to talk considering you DROPPED ME once–"

"Ohhhh, for the last goddamn time!" I groaned. "I didn't _actually_ drop you."

"My arse hit the ground, it counts."

"You'll be the death of me, Emma … EMMA …" I faltered and Emma propped herself up on an elbow properly now, leaning over me.

"Emma what?"

"I just realised that I tried to middle name you, but I don't actually know what your middle name is," I admitted. "That is, if you even have one."

"Louise," Emma said, trying not to smile. "My middle name's Louise."

"Then, YOU'LL BE THE DEATH OF ME, EMMA LOUISE TERRY," I grabbed her around the waist, hauling her into my arms. I was still too wound up to go back to _The Great British Bake Off_ , and WAY too excited to start sorting through the rest of my mail or doing other Adult things. So … staying in bed together it was.

* * *

Apparently, I had been unnaturally quiet the last several days.

"Hey," Her arms came out of nowhere, winding around me from behind. She was so small, a petite bundle of brown frizzy curls, her face pressing into my back as she murmured. "Don't be worried about tomorrow, ok? The interview will go fine."

"Emma, I'm TOTALLY cool, I swear."

"That's funny," she muttered, pressing a kiss between my shoulder blades. "because you've been muttering 'fucking Tillman' under your breath since you woke up this morning."

"You try dealing with that nutter!" I threw back at her. She sniggered, squeezing me tighter.

" _You'll be fine_."

* * *

I stared at her hard in the light of the sun peeking through my curtains. Nothing whatsoever diminished the aching that came along with such a pastime (hence the reason I learned long ago that it was probably dangerous to look at Emma too long). She slept calmly, still curled up on her side of the bed, but facing towards me with an arm outstretched. Beckoning in her sleep. _It's ok, you want this_. I wanted it so badly.

I slowly, hesitantly, nudged her outstretched arm with my shoulder. She stirred, but didn't move, so I took it as a sign and stayed pressed up against her. Hell, we were barely even touching.

… but I felt it, y'know?

* * *

"I might be goin' crazy," Emma began, holding out her arms in front of her as we walked. "but I think I might, I MIGHT … just take my jacket off."

"I will guarantee ya that the sun will disappear the moment you do," I said.

"But look at the sky!" Emma gestured upwards wildly. "There's barely any clouds!"

"Taking a bit of a leap there, aren't you?" I said, considering about half the sky was filled with fluffy clouds.

She didn't give me the honour of retorting, just paused a moment as we continued across London Bridge. It was crawling with tourists, all trying to get pictures of the slightly more aesthetically famous Tower Bridge in the background. Suddenly, Emma moved, nearly elbowing one bloke so hard that he almost dropped his phone over the side of the bridge. "What on earth are you–?"

"I'm doin' it!" Emma continued stripping off her jacket, tucking it over her arm so that she was clad just in her t-shirt instead.

"You're ambitious today, Princess. I like it."

"You're not too hot?"

"Emma, I'm not taking my jacket on and off fifty times throughout the day," I rolled my eyes. "You're gonna get cold again in like, five minutes, and then I'll be laughing!"

"Honestly, the sun is out! Take advantage–" She held out her arms again and added, "I can work on my tan!"

"… and how's that working out so far?" I asked.

"I think it might take a while."

"I could've told you that," I snorted, shoving her shoulder. "C'mon, let's keep going before you start turning blue, instead of brown."

Emma skipped a couple of steps to keep up with me. "You still haven't said where we're going, by the way."

"You reminded me the other day," I said as we reached the edge of the bridge. A sign at the nearest path pointed out the right direction. "You know, when we were arguing over whether the Royal Family has ever had magic in the bloodline somewhere or not?"

"I still stand by my 'Princess Diana was a witch' theory."

"Of course you do," I said. "but you mentioned that you'd never been to the Tower of London before!"

"Oh, god," Emma laughed. "I know where this is goin'."

"You can't just've NEVER been before," I lead the way down the waterfront. The Thames was practically glittering under the rare sunlight, which did pretty well in dulling the usual radioactive sheen it usually had. There's a reason people say you'll come out mutated if you fall into _that_ river. "I dunno, I figured it'd be fun. Think of it as an early birthday present."

Emma glanced up at me, a small smile on her face. Maybe she was remembering when I'd dragged her to the London Eye that one time. Maybe one day, we'll have seen the entire city as a tourist, who knew? She swapped her jacket onto her other arm, and I wondered why vaguely for a moment, before she randomly reached out with her now spare arm and took my hand.

 _Took my hand._

Jesus, is this a good time to have a crisis?

My throat suddenly closed up at the sensation, feeling like pins and needles were suddenly shooting down my arm. She didn't think about it, just laced her fingers with mine like it was the most natural thing in the world and hoo boy, did I apparently like it! Yes, I was internally shrieking, but her hand felt warm and she squeezed her fingers and there was just something about walking along the Thames, holding hands with Emma Louise Terry.

"I was gonna remind ya that our birthdays were comin' up, and all," Emma said.

"ELEVEN DAYS!" I practically yelled. "But uh, who's counting?"

"Not you, clearly," Emma smiled. "We've gotta plan something quick! Otherwise everyone'll be too busy and no one will be able to come. Are we still goin' with the timeless classic, Raging Party?"

"Well, I figured so, unless you wanted to get classier?"

"Eh, I've got my thirties for that," Emma waved off the idea. "I'm down for partying while we still have the energy to."

"Then I've already got the perfect plan," I said, everything already pictured inside my head. Admittedly, I'd been thinking about it a lot, lately.

"Seriously?" Emma asked, surprised. "You know that you've got to book anywhere at least several–"

"Don't worry, it's gonna be on the balcony."

"In Rose and Scorpius' building?" Emma complained. "Fred! I know I said we didn't have to be classy, but I thought we could at least step it up from the balcony."

"Trust me! I have a plan, it's fool-proof," I insisited. "And for it to work, it has to be a balcony party, so balcony it is. I'll let you have free-reign of next year's party, if that makes you feel better?"

"… fine," Emma grumbled. "But I'm warnin' ya, this party BETTER be bloody amazing!"

"It'll be the best, you'll see!" We were coming up on the Tower of London now, the large castle looming ahead of us. I vaguely remembered coming here as a kid, but it had been years. I was excited to skip up to the main entrance, but we'd stepped in the shadow of a building and Emma suddenly shivered violently against a breeze that rushed through.

"You're freezing, aren't you?" I teased.

"Nah, nah – this isn't cold!" Emma said. However, she got about ten more steps before she was forced to pull her hand out of mine, shaking out her coat. "NOPE. No, I was wrong. Too ambitious, too fuckin' cold …"

* * *

She's scalding. Sometimes too hot under my skin, but I don't care.

I would let her press me into my sofa any fucking day of the week. My head tipped back, letting her have it, letting her lips roam across my jaw, my neck. One hand was in my hair, gripping it tightly and keeping it held back while the other wandered. Christ. I didn't mean to let out a noise like a whimper, but she grinned against my skin and pulled me back for a proper kiss.

I swore as she finally got a hand inside my trousers, fingers clenching around me. "Y'know, normally I'd let this escalate," she whispered against the shell of my ear. "but fuck it, I want you inside me."

I couldn't answer, but damn it if I didn't mind.

* * *

"Fred, I can't decide! You legit need to help me out here–"

"Emma, no offence," I said, hanging upside down off the end of my bed. "but I couldn't give a flying fuck what you wear."

"But what does 'semi-formal' even mean?" she complained, searching endlessly through the pile of her clothing in the washing basket. Upside down, I watched her hold up dresses and blouses, having been dressed myself for the last OH, TWO HOURS? "Fuck you, Sarah! Why couldn't you just throwing a raging house party instead of a fancy dinner?"

"Because Sarah wants to celebrate her promotion in style?"

"Still."

"Emma," I rolled my eyes. "Just bloody pick something, ok? Whatever you wear will be fine and then we won't be late to the goddamn party! So long as you don't wear The Dress, you'll be fine."

"Just for that," Emma smirked. "I think I'm gonna wear The Dress."

"It's official. You're TRYING to murder me."

Emma paused in her attempts at finding something to wear. I rolled over so that I could lie on my stomach, watching her contemplate with a faraway look that I hadn't expected. "What is it?" I asked.

"I just suddenly started thinkin'," Emma said, staring at The Dress in her hands. "When I was with Mark. If he'd said something like what you'd just said, I wouldn't have dared wear this. He would say it to get me to wear whatever he wanted. It's weird that with him, I had no idea, but with you …"

"Jesus," I muttered. "I'd never – I didn't mean it like that–"

"I know! That's my point," Emma looked up at me. "Thank you, Fred. For not being a sociopath."

"WELL, I dunno 'bout that."

Emma sniggered, before standing up determinedly, dress in her hands. "You know, I think I WILL wear this. It's somewhere between too formal and not formal enough, so that'll probably work."

"Ok," I said, sitting up straight as she started undressing. "but I WILL warn you that any groping that occurs at this dinner will not be my fault!"

"Maybe I wanna be groped a little," Emma teased.

"You look so fucking hot in that dress."

"I know," she grinned.

* * *

My front door burst open with absolutely no warning.

"YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!"

"Uhhhh …" I began, James hurtling inside before I could even register what was happening. He kicked the door shut behind him with a foot, stumbling the landing and I surged to my feet as he staggered. "Christ, watch it!" I said fearfully, my arms still outstretched.

"Don't worry," James recovered, wrapping his spare hand behind baby Clara's head and kissing the top of her fuzzy hair. "Girl will survive. FRED, holy shit, you've gotta watch this!"

I had no idea what the hell was happening. I could only watch as James moved to the empty floor of my lounge, placing Clara gently down on her tummy. The little eight-month-old held herself up by her arms, curiously watching her deranged father as he moved several paces away before sitting back down on his knees. He pulled a very battered stuffed unicorn out of his pocket and started waving it tantalisingly in front of Clara. "C'mon, come get Simon!"

"… you know she's not a dog, right?" I asked in amusement.

" _I said just watch!_ " James hissed.

For a while, nobody moved apart from James. I watched in bemusement and Clara just stared as James waved the unicorn, saying ridiculous things like, "Coooome and get it! He's so … soft and sparkly … he's your favourite! C'mon, Clara! You can do it–" But the longer Clara didn't move, the more James would shuffle forward on his knees until eventually, he was sighing and just handing the unicorn over to her. Once the pink soft toy was in her hands, Clara squealed and started chewing its head.

"Well, she did it just before," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry, WHAT was it she was supposed to do?" I asked.

"I swear to god, she knows how to crawl now!" James insisted. I moved to join the two down on my lounge floor, James sitting back on his arse now and looking forlornly at his daughter. "Libby and I've been encouraging her to crawl, roll over, that kinda thing lately, and I'm not kidding you, not even an hour ago she managed to make her way across the entire lounge!"

"Yeeeep," I said. "She looks SUPER speedy."

"I'm not kidding!"

"Ok, ok," I rolled my eyes. "But she's a baby, right? For all my joking, she basically is a puppy right now. You can lead her to the water, but you can't make her drink, or whatever the saying is."

"I believe that's horses."

"Ah, what the hell do I know?"

"Not much! So where's Emma, then?" James added, glancing around my flat as Clara continued to chomp away.

"Currently sleeping off a hangover at her mate, Sarah's, house."

"Ah, the promotion party, right?" James said. "Libby left me to look after the tiny one so she could go. At least she came back home, although it was something like three in the morning. She's still sleeping now, or at least she was when I left to crash this place."

"Yeah, thanks for that."

"I SWEAR TO GOD, she managed to do it!" James insisted, watching his daughter with exasperation. "It wasn't quite a crawl, it was kind of like commando on her tummy, but she moved by herself!"

"Isn't it easier when you can put her down and know that she won't move anywhere?"

"Well, yes," James said. "but unfortunately, kids don't stay in the same spot forever."

Huh.

I stayed looking down, watching Clara play for a moment. I realised that James' words had kind of struck me somewhere. _Kids don't stay in the same spot forever_. I don't think anyone really stays in the same spot forever. I couldn't even look up because I figured that I was the kid in this scenario, right? Like my buddy Clara here, I already had everything I wanted within grasp, so why would I try and move? Moving is scary! You don't know what's going to happen if you move somewhere else outside your spot! Granted, I think Clara has to be about 10 times braver than I am (if she isn't a Gryffindor in the future, I'll be sorely disappointed) and I think she isn't moving simply because she's lazy and she doesn't quite know how her arms and legs work properly yet.

But unfortunately for me, I didn't have any excuses. My arms and legs move just fine, but I was comfy in my spot. For ages, Emma had danced just outside my spot and I was terrified not so much at moving to get it, but wanting to move in the first place. Eventually, after all the climbing buildings, stealing umbrella stands and much crying, I'd taken the tiniest step outside of my spot and it had paid off.

But now I was imagining how much bigger the world could be when you could walk anywhere.

"Fuckin' CHRIST," I exclaimed at that thought.

"What?" James glanced around in alarm.

"Oh, nothing! Nothing, I …" Clara accidentally dropped Simon and started whining. I took the opportunity to pick it up for her and she held out her little hands for it.

"Naaaaaa."

"Yes, that is the technical term," I grinned. I gently picked Clara up, plonking her in my lap so that she could keep playing with her unicorn. The little girl leaned back against me, babbling intelligently about something I'm sure made complete sense to her.

"Seriously, mate," James said, leaning forward and wiping Clara's mouth gently with the corner of his sleeve. "What'd you yell at?"

"I just realised," I leaned back on my hands. "I'm basically like Clara learning how to commando crawl."

"You might wanna elaborate," James said. "Although I'm not gonna oppose the concept of you being a whiney baby sometimes."

I shot him a look, but continued. "I dunno … with Libby, did you ever have a moment when you realised that you weren't afraid of wanting her anymore, it was just the usual fear of rejection now?"

"I thought you fell in love with Emma years ago!" James laughed.

"You know what I mean! Look, I keep saying that I don't know what we're doing, and it's true," I said. "but I just realised … I kind of want to know what we're doing. I don't want to just be randomly drifting, never talking, never thinking about it, just fucking to cover up everything I don't know how to say. Maybe I don't want to face this all head on right now, but I think I'll eventually want to … you know, someday. Maybe I want to figure this all out someday."

"And that freaks you out."

"I keep feeling like there's two voices in my head," I nodded. "The loud motherfucker who keeps waiting for it to explode, telling me to run, telling me to get the hell out while I still can. And a calmer side of me who says no, stick it out. Guess which side is louder?"

"BABA," Clara said.

"You got it, girl," I told her.

James thought for a moment as he sat in front of me. "Fred, you've changed," he shrugged. "and like, that's ok. You are like Clara, you've learned to commando crawl, only now you also want to try maybe standing up, but your brain's like NO, NO, that's too dangerous! And you sit back down again."

"So how do I stand up?" I asked.

James smiled. "That's easy. Ask Emma to hold your hand and trust she'll be there to catch you if you accidentally fall back on your arse."

I almost thought about that a moment, but that was when Clara got bored and started reaching out for James. Her little face screwed up as she tried to reach him by lurching forward. Of course, she was realising that she really didn't have good motor control yet and instead, she just kept flopping over my lap, which was kinda funny to watch. I started to hand her over to him since she was on the verge of having a full-blown meltdown, but James held back.

"No, wait! Maybe I'm terrible, but just try it once again," he scooted back and asked me to place Clara on the floor facing him once more.

"I am super sure that all we're gonna have is a storm in here," I pointed out, but James was determined.

"It's ok, Clara!" He called to her, hands patting the floor in front of him. "Look, I'm right here! I'm like, a foot away, you can do it!"

She abandoned Simon in her frustration, and the two of us watched in awe as baby Clara tried to wiggle herself forward. I honestly didn't think she was going to make it before crying out of frustration, but James was beside himself.

"Holy shit, is she actually doing it?" I asked in amazement as she inched forward determinedly.

"YEAH, SHE IS!" James cried. "Oh my god, c'mon, baby!"

"You can do it, Clara!"

"MATE, SHE'S CRAWLING!"

"She is not crawling, that's a snake impression at best–"

"Whatever, IT COUNTS!"

It took several long moments of Clara rolling around on the floor, but amazingly, she eventually reached James' outstretched hands. The both of us burst into loud cheering, James scooping up his daughter in pride. "YOU ARE SO CLEVER!" he told her, Clara giggling now that she'd gotten what she wanted, patting her dad's face with her hands as he hugged her to him. "Oh man, Libby's gonna cry when I tell her – I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!"

"She actually did it!" I exclaimed. "Well, fuck damn!"

"Course she did!" James grinned, kissing the side of Clara's head. "She's my baby, after all."

* * *

Things were changing.

It took me this long to realise it, but over the last couple of weeks – ever since Rose's birthday, really – my life had slowly been changing from one of panic and terror at every corner, to one that wasn't quite so scary. I didn't realise at the time that we'd begun some kind of long transition process, but we had, and it had slowly been working away at the both of us. We were both changed people now. Emma wasn't plagued by her ghosts anymore. She knew her own worth and did whatever it was that made her happy, rather than living just to please others. Every day I was listening to the loud voice in my head less and less! Well. At least I liked to think I was. Whatever. Just remember what I used to be like when I first met Emma and compare me to now, ok? That's the image I'm going for, here!

Things were happening, life was changing, and I was kind of trying to be ok with that.

"Fred, I think your phone's ringing," Emma said absent-mindedly.

"Huh?" I glanced up from my end of the sofa. I'd been sound asleep after a hellish day of chasing criminals across the entire fucking country, while Emma apparently re-watched _The Force Awakens_ for the billionth time. I listened and sure enough, the tinny sound of my cell phone was going off once more. "Bloody hell," I grumbled, dislodging my feet from Emma's lap and struggling to sit upright. "People need to stop calling me on that thing!"

"You might not have this struggle if you took the time to actually learn how to use it properly," Emma teased.

"Don't test me! Where the hell is it?"

"How should I know?"

Rather than follow the sound, I decided this time to be lazy and summon the damn thing to me. Glancing at the screen told me all I needed to know.

"What the fuck have you done now?" I groaned in answer.

" _You wound me, bro!_ "

"Yeah, yeah, you're calling me, so clearly you want me to bail you out of something," I sighed. "What is it?"

" _I might need ya to come and scare off a bloke?_ "

Naturally. Doesn't even admit that I was right, just ploughs straight into what she wants. "Roxie!" I whined.

" _Look, normally I wouldn't call, but turns out that this guy is seriously fucked up_ ," my dear sister said. I paused when, in the background, I think I heard a lot of yelling and possibly a bang or two. " _I didn't even ask him to come round tonight, and now he's gone bloody crazy, screaming outside my house and_ –"

"Why the hell is he mad?"

" _I don't know!_ " Roxane insisted. " _Well … ok, so he turned up randomly and saw me come home with Brian_ –"

"Who the fuck is Brian?" I cried, causing Emma to glance over in bemusement.

" _Just a bloke I'm seeing._ "

"SO WHO THE FUCK IS THE CRAZY GUY?"

" _His name's Jack! We've just been talking, but he seemed to think it was exclusive, I don't bloody know_ –"

"ROXANNE."

" _Right? He's such a douche, definitely won't be talking to him again_ –"

"Jesus Christ – is he inside your house?"

" _Nah, nah, the girls and I kicked him out – but he's still outside, he's been screaming shit at me for over half an hour and he won't leave – please, Fred, you gotta come and get rid of him, he's starting to scare the girls and he's being SUPER freaky, like saying he's gonna come and kill us all and shit_ –"

I gently lowered the phone from my ear, covering it with a hand.

Deep breath.

"What?" Emma asked flatly.

"Emma," I said, struggling to keep my voice calm. "Please go and call the Aurors."

Naturally, that sent my sister into a tailspin of more shrieking down her end. I didn't care, I couldn't bail her out of this one on my own. "ROXANNE," I yelled back down the phone as Emma hastily jumped to her feet, running for my bedroom. "Shut up! I don't care what you say, I'm calling the goddamn Aurors."

" _NO, Fred, you can't!_ " Roxanne cried. " _I don't want a huge fuss_ –"

"I don't think you get it, Roxie, some guy is threatening to KILL you!"

" _It's not like, serious, or anything_ ," Roxanne insisted. " _That's why I called you instead of them, idiot! You can like, just shake him up a bit, or something_ –"

"I'M APPLYING TO BE AN AUROR, I CAN'T JUST 'SHAKE SOMEONE UP A BIT'!"

"Fred!" Emma waved a hand frantically, appearing at the lounge doorway. "Does the Auror Office even have a mobile number?"

"OH, FOR GOD'S SAKE," I yelled. "Roxanne, don't fucking do anything! All of you, stay inside! I'll be there soon–"

I aggressively punched the end call button and shared a look with Emma across the lounge.

"I hate my sister," I said.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"The usual – she fucked up, and now I have to fix it," I groaned. I ran for my bedroom again, now searching for my work intercom. Jamming it into my ear and praying that he was still awake, I started yelling, "Yael! CALLING YAEL! Jesus, are you … yes, yeah, it's Fred … look, I don't have much time to explain, but I need a massive favour …"

* * *

I crashed my sister's bungalow with what felt like a fucking army.

"Fred!" Roxanne startled when we Apparated straight in. "I said no Aurors!"

"This is off the clock," Yael said, wand already in hand.

It had been a weird conversation. Turns out that Yael had indeed still been awake (and that Kayla was right next to him, no less! I would have teased, but I'll wait for later) and it had only taken about twenty seconds of my garbled explanation before he'd cut in with,

"You know we're not from the Violent Crimes Division, right? Actually, this is probably even more Family and Child Protection's kind of thing–"

"I know no one's dead or been assaulted yet, Yael, but this is my sister!"

There had been a pause before,

"What's the address?"

When your mates are Aurors, you can get a lot of shit done. I asked him to call for off-the-clock back up, for any of his mates he knew would come through and we ended up with what felt like half the bloody Homicide Division, which was kind of disconcerting, but still. It was better than facing this bloke on my own. Roxanne lived in this one-levelled bungalow with three other girls who all worked at the salon with her, and they were all currently shrieking and yelling about what was going on. Hell, even Emma had wanted to come and join the party, but I'd been forced to put my foot down on that one.

"Emma, he's threatening to KILL people!" I said.

"You took me on a case once," she pointed out.

"And I never should have done that! This isn't just picking up a bail jumper, Emma, this could potentially turn into a duel if he resists arrest, and I don't care what you say, you are NOT coming!"

Thankfully, she'd seemed to realise that I was right. Best let the ten or so Aurors who'd suddenly come streaming out of our fireplace handle it.

Now, they were all milling around the tiny bungalow, trying to organise the chaos. "Look, SIS," I snapped at Roxanne, who stood with her hand defiantly on her waist before me. "It was either this, or I actually called the Violent Crimes Division, rather than just calling in a bunch of colleagues. Which would you rather?"

"You didn't need to do all this!" Roxanne complained. "It's just one guy–"

Suddenly, there was another loud THUD against the front door of the house. Someone outside screamed,

" _I'M GONNA FUCKIN' KILL YOU ALL!_ "

"Yeah," Kayla winced. "He sounds nice."

"We'll talk about my sister's taste in men later," I sighed. "For now, let's get this idiot."

Half of my ridiculous ensemble team Apparated outside within the perimeter of the house. We were a bit of a mismatched team, everyone who'd answered Yael's request for back-up being in various stages of their nighty routine. One bloke was in his dressing gown and boots, while another girl had apparently been in the middle of curling her hair. But they were all trained Aurors, and knew how to react if this went bad. I went as a part of the outside team, swiftly approaching the house and the front door, where the bloke was currently trying to curse the front door off.

"Sir, step away from the house!" Yael called clearly.

Jack the Ex-boyfriend jumped at the appearance of the crap-load of Aurors and nearly dropped his wand anyway.

"Slowly put your wand on the ground!" Kayla added.

"Aw, Roxie, you called the bleedin' Aurors on me? REALLY?" Ugh, this guy was literally the living embodiment of every fucked up Douchebag out there. Jack yelled at my sister, but I stormed forward before one of the other Aurors could stop me.

"She didn't call the Aurors, fuckboy, she called me!" I yelled.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Her older brother!" I shoved my wand into his chest. "And clearly I have some friends who just happen to be Aurors, so don't bloody test me!"

But Jack just laughed. "You wanna know what your whore sister did? She's been fucking some other dick on the side! YOU HEAR THAT, ROXIE? YOU FUCKING WHORE!"

Well, that was it.

I flicked my wand and suddenly, Jack was yelling, but not at my sister anymore. He was doubled over as his arm was twisted up behind him.

"Let me put this simply," I growled at him, low and fierce. "since apparently, you don't even have half a fucking brain. _You leave my sister alone, or I_ –"

"Fred!"

I turned and noticed Yael gesturing frantically for me to let him go. I sighed and reluctantly lowered my wand. Jack sank onto his knees, groaning.

"Sir," Kayla began steadily. "We are placing you under arrest. You will have your rights read to you and if you resist … look, it's super late, just please don't resist arrest, ok?"

* * *

"The charges won't hold," I grumbled about fifteen minutes later, after all the crazy drama had ended. Neighbours weren't gawking out their windows anymore, Jack the Nutbag's sorry arse had been dragged off and the other Aurors were busy taking statements from the girls and generally eluding the phrase, 'nothing to see here'. I'd nearly blown my nut at Roxanne, but Yael had dragged me aside and practically ordered me to breathe properly for a moment or two.

"You don't know that," Yael told me.

"Yeah, I do," I growled, arms folded tight across my chest. "Roxanne will refuse to press charges, and he's gonna get off with a warning. He calls her a whore, threatens to kill her, and absolutely NOTHING is gonna happen."

"Fred," Yael took a deep breath as well. "I get it. It's your sister and it's personal, but you nearly tore his goddamn arm off. You can't do that shit if you want to be an Auror."

"I KNOW, I know," I sighed. "Don't tell me you didn't want to let me."

"Maybe he deserves it, but we don't get to decide that, and you know it," Yael said. "She's ok, yeah? Calm down–"

If I'd been given some time, I think I probably would have. I'm an idiot, but I understand things. I know my sister, I know the kinds of things she ends up in. But I was still fuming when ten seconds later, Roxanne came storming out of her house.

"WHAT THE HELL, FRED?" she cried.

"Oh, here we fucking go," I exclaimed.

"Mate–!"

I thankfully managed to bite back telling Yael to shut up, but I still shoved him aside. I met Roxanne about halfway to her door, staring her down on the front garden path. We were both angry and I knew that absolutely nothing nice was going to come out of this conversation, but FUCK ITTTT.

"How dare you?" Roxanne complained at once. "I ask for my brother's help, and what does he do? Calls the bloody Aurors, exactly like I told him NOT to do!"

"If I hadn't have called in a favour, Roxanne, we could both very well be dead," I snapped. "Do you not understand that? He was threatening to MURDER you!"

"You handle this stuff all the time, you would've been fine!"

"No, I WOULDN'T have!" I yelled in her face. "I tried to rip the guy's arm off! If Yael hadn't stopped me, we would be in a duel right now!"

Of course, Roxanne decided to bypass this point by holding her hands to her hair in dismay, shaking her head. "Holy shit, Fred, I ask you for this one thing! Now it's going to be a fuss, Mum and Dad will find out, they'll want to press charges, I don't want this on file–"

"Why not? Because of how it makes you look?" I accused. "Why would you care, you clearly have no respect for yourself anyway."

Roxanne's face was murderous. "FUCK. YOU."

"No! You hurtle face first into situations you don't think about – that's your problem, you never bloody THINK – and then assume that I can just come and bail you out. Problem's gone now, I never have to worry or consider my actions, because my bro will always fix it. It's not always gonna be like that, Roxanne!" I took a step forward, but she held her ground. "Because it starts with rescuing you from bathrooms in the middle of the night, then it escalates to this, and what next? What else are you gonna expect me to come and magically fix in the future? Because it's not my job to come and help when YOU fuck up your life!"

I thought I'd made my point. Several of my Auror team and a couple of Roxanne's flatmates were all nervously shooting us glances. Somewhere, a voice was saying that we were being unreasonable, that we should both step back, but I didn't listen.

Roxanne didn't either.

"I call you because you're my brother," she said, voice low and furious. "My brother. _Family_. But this is MY life, and you can't tell me that I'm living it wrong. I only dumped the guy, that doesn't mean he's allowed go fucking psycho on me!"

"Well, maybe if you hadn't have dated two people at the same time in the first place!"

"I'm sorry, are you saying it's my fault because I ASKED FOR IT?"

"I–" I faltered, because shit. That's exactly what I'd just implied, wasn't it? And that wasn't right. I knew that that wasn't something ok to say. No, no one ever deserves the reaction that my sister got from Jack, and that wasn't her fault. But I was still being the irrational older brother here. I hated that this had happened, I hated that idiots like Jack existed and … apparently, my sister is the easiest thing to blame. Immediately, I knew that this had gotten out of hand. Without another word, I turned and walked away, breathing in unsteadily through my nose. Roxanne called after me in indignation, but I just kept walking.

"Fred–"

"Kayla, I know," I knew it was her this time, because Yael hates confrontation about as much as the next bloke. The street was dark and I had finally stopped a few houses down, rubbing my eyes. Kayla stayed quiet, her auburn hair the brightest thing under the streetlights.

"I owe about half a million apologies, don't I?" I asked.

"To your sister, yes," Kayla said simply. "Not to me. Are you ok?"

I just silently nodded my head.

* * *

" _What happened?_ " Emma insisted the second I was stepping out of the fireplace. "Is Roxie ok? Can you tell me? OH MY GOD, I've literally been sitting here all night watching _Bake Off_ trying not to think about it, but I kept imagining your head exploding or something, so I stopped eventually, but I couldn't sleep and – and …" she trailed off, probably at the look on my face. "Fred, are you ok?"

This time, I shook my head.

Immediately, she moved and wrapped me in her arms.

* * *

A/N: I'M BAAAAAAAAACK!  
I am in New Zealand again! Currently living with my parents and job-less! Oh... ok, never mind. Basically, I miss travelling terribly and Everything Sucks, but I have Fremma and I have you guys. Not gonna lie, I struggled a lot to write this, but hopefully from here, I can be a bit more consistent with the updating. :D

This turned out a bit more dramatic than I intended (uh... sorry) but I really hope you liked it! Seriously, please let me know what you think. :)

I love you and I missed all of you! x  
\- Moon. xoxo

PS. To America -  
Stay strong.  
I love y'all xoxo


	29. That one time I jumped into a duck pond

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 29: That one time I jumped into a duck pond.

"Fred! Over here!"

Rose waved from where she was leaning against the wall next to the Visitor's Entrance window. The shop display still held about four or five decrepit, crumbling dummies in clothes that had apparently walked right out of the 1920s. You'd think that St. Mungo's would switch up their Muggle covers every now and then, just to make things a bit livelier! Buuuut if there's anything I know about the magical world, it's that wizards were slow and hated change. I dashed to meet up with her and my cousin hugged me happily once I was near enough.

"Always good to see you, my dear Idiot Twin Number 1," Rose grinned.

"Gosh, I get to be Number 1?" I asked in mock happiness.

"Don't tell James."

"I won't," I gestured with my head down the street. "C'mon, let's get lunch."

I was glad I'd owled her. Rose certainly looked like she could use a break. Her freckly face was a little pale, and her red curls were tied back in a misshapen mess, but let's face it, we all know it's because Rose literally never stops working. The hospital gained a spectacular Healer when she joined, but I dunno how Scorpius puts up with it … then again, I don't understand anything about the two of them, so perhaps they'd perfected some weird secret Thing over the years that helped. Who knew? Luckily, Rose had still seemed happy to meet up when I'd owled her the other day, and she linked her arm through mine, letting me lead her down the street.

"Not that I don't love hanging out with you, Fred," Rose mentioned lightly as we walked. "but why exactly are we doing this?"

"You mean I can't just call up my younger cousin out of the blue and ask her to have lunch with me?"

"Not without me thinking you want something," Rose smirked.

"You wound! Actually, I need a favour," I admitted.

"Knew it! But before you say anything, let it be known that I refuse to climb any more buildings with you," Rose pointed to a small jagged mark at her hairline, just above her left ear. "I _literally_ still bear the scars from last time."

"Oh my god," I laughed, pausing to get a closer look. "You actually do have a scar! DAMN, that's impressive."

"It's not funny!" Rose said, but she was laughing too.

"Too bad you didn't scar your whole face," I teased and she whacked my hand away from where I was poking at her.

"It'll be a funny story that I absolutely will not be telling my children one day," Rose said. "Now, seriously. What favour do you want to ask?"

"Weeeeell …" I warbled. "You're not gonna like it, now that you've said all that."

Rose sighed. "You want to use my building to throw another party, don't you?"

"It's for mine and Emma's birthdays!" I said. "And honestly just that, I promise you. No climbing … much."

"FRED."

"Fine! No climbing, actually," I rolled my eyes. "Our actual birthdays are on a Thursday this year, so we were thinking the 12th July instead? That's the Saturday after."

"I don't think we're going anywhere, so it should be fine," Rose answered. "Is that all you needed to ask me? You could've just mentioned it in the owl!"

"I know, but the last time we hung out, you were high as fuck," I reminded her.

She snorted. "Oh, right."

"I dunno, I thought it might be nice to hang out. Whatever."

"I like this influence Emma's having on you, Fred."

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean."

"Yeah, yeah," Rose smiled. "C'mon, let's get food."

Rose's favourite café I knew was Julio, but that was all the way across the city near where she lived. And besides, while the place might hold nice memories for her, my few vivid moments I'd had there I was rather keen to forget about. I'd looked up places around this area, but apparently Rose already had her favourite spots picked out around her work and ended up dragging me to a sandwich shop that she liked. We sat in the window, eating together as she asked, "So Emma's doing good, yeah?"

"Last I checked," I asked in amusement. "Aren't you guy's friends? Like, you can just ask her yourself?"

"Yes, but sometimes we purposefully ask these things through others," Rose pointed out. "It's called being polite. Also, it is my job as a friend to report back everything you say."

"You know, Rosie, about 99% of the time, I never know when you are joking."

Rose laughed. "You're lucky to have that girl, Fred."

"She's not _mine_ ," I said.

"Of course not, but you know what I mean," Rose nudged my arm with her elbow, hands full of sandwich. "Trust me, I get it. If there's anyone who's the Queen of Complicated Relationships, I'm your girl!"

"You're MARRIED," I snorted.

"Yeah, but there's still an entire year of unaccounted time where we don't know whether we were together or not," Rose pointed out.

"What the hell year was this?"

"Fifth-year Hogwarts," Rose said, fondly. "There's the day we 'officially' got together in May, but Scorpius likes to argue the point that our entire fifth-year we were basically going out, we were just refusing to admit it. I can't quite remember a lot of the details now, school was bloody ages ago, but in this case Scorpius is probably right."

"You guys are fuckin' weirdoes. I love it."

"When did you and Emma get together?" Rose asked casually.

I choked on my sandwich.

Goddamn it, Rose! I hacked away over my plate as Rose just held out my glass of water innocently for me. Ohhhhh, bitch knew exactly what she was asking! I wouldn't have had the first clue how to answer her. Problem was … I think I had a day in mind. Well, there were actually several days and dates floating around the last few years, considering the many milestones and ridiculousness we'd been through.

But the day that stood out the most was that day back in late April, a few days after Rose's birthday party. The day I had taken Emma on a case with me, then kissed her later on my sofa. That had been when we'd started this whole new weird thing where we sleep together and actually keep communicating, and now Rose was talking about it as if … that's when we started going out.

 _Jesus Christ, am I actually dating someone?_

But instead of, you know, actually addressing that spiralling question and have a legit mental breakdown right here in this shop, I managed to wave it off. "If there's anything I've learned, it's that Emma and I are about just as weird as you guys are," I said, hastily.

"Yeah, ok," Rose snorted. "but for the record, you're totally cute together."

"Gee, thanks."

"If you want, I could change the subject," Rose shrugged. "but I'm not entirely sure you'll like that, either."

I gave her a shrewd look as she stayed innocently chewing her sandwich. "You wanna hear about the latest family gossip, don't you?"

"I don't need any details," Rose said quickly.

"But also, please tell me everything, right?"

Rose gave me a small grin over the top of her sandwich and I sighed. Naturally, the latest Weasley Family Gossip was all about how Fred apparently arrested his sister's latest boyfriend. Because THAT doesn't make it sound too dramatic at all! I expected it, naturally, but I was still trying not to think about it and it didn't help when every second owl you get is from your mother, wanting to know what in god's name was going on.

 _DINNER. TONIGHT_ , her latest owl had said. _And don't you even dare think about ignoring this owl, either! I know how your brain works, Fred Anthony Weasley. Your dad and I have hardly seen you at all lately, and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. And it's not just about your sister, ok? Your dad has stuff to talk to you both about as well. I don't want you not coming because you think you're going to be in trouble. You aren't above being in trouble (I am your mother after all!) but I do know that you are a grown adult now, as is Roxie. You are both capable of making your own decisions._

 _That being said, if you don't come tonight, I am grounding you._

 _Love Mum xoxo_

So basically, I felt terrible about how I'd treated my sister, and yet was still refusing to apologise. Yeah, Mum, try explaining that one to ya.

"It wasn't as crazy as no doubt everyone's making it out to be," I grumbled.

"Lily told me that you arrested Roxie's ex for attempted murder," Rose mentioned.

"Damn it, Lily! There was no murder, attempted or otherwise!" I said exasperatedly. "Roxanne broke up with the bloke, he threatened to hurt her, I called in a favour and got my Auror mates to arrest him. That's all! I'm not hopeful on the charges sticking, though."

"Blimey," Rose said. "How come?"

"Roxanne's refusing to officially report it. She didn't exactly want me to call the Aurors."

"Why did you, then?"

"There was someone threatening my sister's life!" I said. "Of course I wasn't running in without back-up! But did Roxanne understand that? Noooo, of course she fucking didn't."

"So she's mad at you, then?"

"We're mad at each other. I don't know," I said. "We argued. She was unreasonable, but I said a lot of shitty stuff too. Basically, we're both terrible people and that's about where we're at, really."

"Oh, Fred," Rose reached out and squeezed my arm. "You're not terrible–"

"No offence, but you don't know what I said."

"I don't want to know," Rose said firmly. "Look, Fred, you are an idiot, but you always mean well. Whatever the hell was said, go fix it. You only have one sister."

"Yeah, I'll just do that."

Rose snorted, sitting back. "I figure it's easier said than done, right? Sorry."

"Nah, nah. You're fine," I said back. "You're right, naturally. It's just a lot easier to stay a stubborn arsehole than it is to stand up and face the consequences."

"I hear ya. Fifteen-year-old me was definitely an arsehole."

"Rosie, you could never be an arsehole, even if you tried," I scoffed.

"Have you met me?" Rose laughed. "I had to keep Scorpius in line somehow, mate!"

"Yeah, but let's face it, that man of yours has always been The Douchebag."

"True," Rose figured. "I'll forever rag on him for jumping headfirst into a new relationship about five seconds after breaking up with me."

Ah, The Break Up. The epic saga that I literally knew nothing about, just blindly supported Rose's side, because she was my cousin and she was family. We all remembered too well the time her and Scorpius dramatically broke up that one time and were subsequently back together six months later, but I'd never known exactly what had happened.

"Yeah, I never got that full story," I mentioned. "Although, now that I ask, do I even want to?"

"We laugh about it now," Rose grinned. "Oh please, let me tell it! James once spent a whole night telling me what felt like his and Libby's entire life story, so I can certainly match him."

"I hope you realise we don't have all night, here–"

"I'll paraphrase!" Rose must have seen the resolve slipping out of my eyes because as I gave an exasperated sigh, she began, "Yes! Ok, so you remember when we broke up, right? It was like two years ago or something now, we'd been having some issues – some resentment, lack of communication – communication is key, Fred!" Rose added, knowingly. "Anyway. We got into a stupid row, which turned into a rather nasty break up. You must've heard about it."

"Well, yeah, I know that part," I said. "I was on your side!"

Rose sniggered. "Thanks, I suppose. Anyway, we'd been together like six years at that point, so it was a big deal. Lots of tears. Lots of ice cream. Apparently my way of handling it was getting defiant and throwing myself into work even more, whereas Scorpius' was to leap into bed with literally the next woman who looked at him. Enter Sophie."

"I like Sophie!" I mentioned. I didn't really know the woman at all, apart from maybe flirting with her a little at Al and Bea's wedding, but I'd always gathered that she was utterly lovely. One of those perpetually smiley and adorable people who were basically human versions of puppies. Rose apparently agreed with this sentiment as she nodded and said,

"She is literally the nicest person ever, I love her to the moon and back," She took a breath. "Unfortunately, she was kissing my ex, so I was required to hate her. Didn't work out too well in the end, but at least I tried."

"I thought you and Scorpius were back together like barely a few months later?" I asked.

"Basically," Rose snorted. "Sophie wasn't blind, she figured it out. She dumped him, Scorpius got his act together and then we got married, bitch–!" I realised she was holding out a hand for me and I slapped her a high-five. "Well, the marriage happened a bit later, but that's basically the whole story."

"And you're still married, so you must like it."

"I love it," Rose said, fondly.

She loved him, I also took that to mean. Because yeah, as weird as Rose and Scorpius were, I'd never exactly doubted that they were still sickening, heart-eyes in love with each other. They didn't look the same as Al and Bea's adorable, traditional marriage, but I'd still never doubted them. Love didn't have to always go the same way every time, you know? I think I've clung onto the Al and Bea image of love all these years – I'm talking like, floating hearts, holding hands and butterfly kisses, that kind of gross thing – just so I could vehemently discard the idea. For what felt like most of my life, I'd told myself that that was what love was, that that was all love could be. Of course, that was a terrifying concept! What seventeen-year-old wouldn't be scared of that? It was hardly surprising that I had so fiercely rejected whatever Emma had made me feel for so long!

But Rose and Scorpius reminded me that love came in all shapes and sizes. One wasn't stuck to just one narrative, one way – love adapted and shaped itself so that it became something unique for each person. Whatever Emma and I had, it looked vastly different to any idea of love that I'd held onto. Maybe that was why I was slowly becoming ok with it.

Or … you know, some kind of eloquent bullshit like that.

* * *

I bid Rose a content goodbye once we finished lunch and she had to head back to work. "I'm looking forward to that birthday party! You better make it worth it!" she'd called over her shoulder and I'd yelled back that I'd make sure it was the time of her bloody life. I'd been intending on going back home, but I'd walked past a bakery along the way and paused.

"I don't know what on earth to say to Yael or Kayla next time I see them," I'd sighed at Emma earlier this morning. The entire Roxanne Debacle had been an utter fiasco.

"Don't say anythin'! Bake 'em a cake instead?"

"Yeah, like I'm gonna bake," I'd snorted, but I'd considered the idea. "I guess that might work, though."

"Exactly! Cake can say 'sorry' or 'thank you', I guess dependin' on which way you want to swing it."

I still didn't really know which way I wanted to swing it, but I made the snap decision and ducked into the bakery regardless. Fifteen minutes later, I was cruising through the Auror Office towards the Homicide Division, a boxed chocolate cake nestled inside the plastic bag in my hands.

"I come baring sugar!" I yelled as a greeting.

"How on earth does the receptionist keep letting you in?" Kayla asked in bemusement.

"Agatha loves me," I answered (although some cake might've also had something to do with it this time).

I'm pretty sure that Yael and Kayla were used to me randomly turning up out of the blue by now, anyway. I still liked to help consult (and by 'consult' I of course mean file paperwork) every now and then, and we had seemed to have hit a lull in active bail cases recently. Not to mention that my application to the office was literally only pending my results from the medical test at this point! I'd been told to expect a decision 'within 1 – 4 weeks of receiving the medical form' so you know … definitely any day, now.

The table Yael and Kayla usually occupied, I noticed, had apparently today been taken over by another group of Homicide Aurors. Usually, they got the huge table in the middle, accompanied by two whiteboards for posting photos and writing notes. However now, it seemed they'd been downgraded to a much significantly smaller table, shoved in between two pot plants, and if their faces were a reflection of the current location, then they weren't too happy about it.

"Bit cosy over here, isn't it?" I pointed out casually.

"DON'T EVEN START," Yael smacked his head against the table.

"The topic's still a bit sensitive," Kayla admitted.

"What happened?" I asked, placing the box of cake down on the table, before taking the seat next to Kayla.

"What else?" Yael complained.

"No leads?"

"No leads," he whined, rubbing his eyes. "Hell, we haven't even had a body turn up in weeks! Actually, it's probably months now, I forget – is that cake?"

"Freshly baked!" I said, cheerfully. "Well – I lie, it's store-bought, but it's the thought that counts. I figured I owed you guys one for the other night."

I thought Yael might actually cry at the thought of cake. "You have no idea how much I love you right now!"

"Whoa, there," I sniggered, shoving the box across the table towards him, Yael opening it eagerly. "Your girl's right next to me, remember?"

" _Shut up_ ," Kayla punched my shoulder, though she was smiling.

"But seriously, Reddale is still nowhere to be seen?" I asked them. "No more bodies, nothing?"

"Nuffin'," Yael mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

Kayla shot him a look as she accepted the piece he broke off for her. "It's a good thing that no one else has died, remember?"

"Yeah, except we have nothing to go off!"

"How is that any different from normal?" Kayla smirked.

Yael tossed a piece of icing at her from the other side of the table. "Shut it, you."

"Is that normal, though?" I asked. "Like … I'm assuming the whole reason the dude busted out of the courthouse in the first place was so he could keep revenge murdering folks?"

"We honestly don't know," Kayla answered me, since it was clear that Yael was too busy downing cake to be bothered. "Serial killers are a weird bunch to profile. There's many reasons Reddale might have suddenly stopped killing – he's moved cities, left the country, he's died himself, blah, blah – but it just doesn't fit his pattern. He's planning something, I'm sure of it …"

"Yael?" I prompted his input.

He glanced up vaguely, chocolate smeared into his beard. "Plannin' sumfin'! Yeah, sure o' it."

"The chocolate's a good look on you," Kayla mentioned.

"Remind me again later tonight."

"Ewwww! Look at you guys being all gross!" I grinned as Kayla flushed bright red. "It's disgusting! You're welcome."

"Shut up," Yael threw a whiteboard marker at my head, which made me laugh. He wiped at his mouth hastily, before starting to shuffle through the endless piles of papers and files on their bullpen table. "By the way," he began, pulling out a folder from underneath a pile of evidence photos. "I'm sorry, mate … but the Jack Tyler case was officially dropped."

I sighed as Yael handed the file over to me across the table. It had clearly been filled out by someone from the Family and Child Protection Division, but it hadn't gone any further than that. He'd been arrested and released less than 24 hours later. "Don't worry about it," I muttered. "We all knew that nothing would come of it."

"I know, but we're still sorry," Yael mentioned, gently.

"Is she still going out with that other bloke?" Kayla asked.

"I don't know! I haven't spoken to her at all since we arrested the guy," I said.

In fact, I barely spoke about my sister at all. What else could I say? Besides, I already had Emma trying to get me to get in touch with Roxanne again after I'd made the huge mistake of telling her everything that had happened. I didn't need anyone else on my case, so I only brought up the topic when necessary. I think it was easier for everyone if I just no longer spoke to my sister at all! Yep, that is certainly the best plan!

"Mate. That is the worst plan I've ever heard," Emma had scoffed.

" _I know, just let me pretend for five seconds –_ GOD!"

Anyway. Look, I knew that having that conversation with my sister had to happen at some point, I just wasn't terribly keen on the idea, ok? The longer I could put off that conversation, the better! Yael and Kayla shot each other looks across the table at my irritated muttering, telepathically communicating in that weird way of theirs, and I just shoved more cake in their direction in exasperation. "I am stupid and immature! Yes, I know," I grumbled. "Please, stuff yourselves with more chocolatey goodness, in way of apology. I wasn't sure whether it was going to be for that or in thanks, but apparently I've got a lot I have to apologise for."

"You don't have to apologise to us, Fred," Kayla mentioned, pulling off a piece of cake.

"Your sister on the other hand …" Yael said.

"You know, she's done some stupid shit as well!" I felt the need to point out.

"True," Yael shrugged. "Still have to talk to her, though."

"Aw, what the fuck do you know?"

"Emma have anything to say about it?" Kayla asked.

"Did she ever. Oh, that reminds me, we're having a joint birthday party on the 12th of July! It's a Saturday, if you guys can make it you have to come," I insisted.

"Hmm, I dunno," Kayla smirked. "I still remember the last time we went to the same party."

"Yeah, and that ended with you guys getting acquainted with each other's mouths, thanks to me!" I said. "You should be leaping at the chance."

Kayla almost choked with laughter, hiding her face in her hands as Yael just paused, shrugged and ate more cake.

"How come a joint party?" he asked.

"Mine and Emma's birthdays happen to be on the same day," I answered.

"Well, we can't miss that," Yael was watching Kayla hide unsuccessfully, a grin on his face. "If we still don't have any leads at that point, you can bet we'll be there."

I helped Yael and Kayla finish off the entire cake together. Between the three of us, it was gone within the next ten minutes! I might not have regretted it at the time, but I certainly did when Huntley naturally tracked me down moments later and I no longer had anything to bribe people with.

"Yeah, yeah, let me guess - get out of your bullpen?" I rolled my eyes.

"You read my mind, Weasley," Huntley replied. "Also, I got a call from your boss. You haven't been answering your owls lately and apparently, the first thing Ferguson thought of was to find out if you'd been crashing the Homicide Division again. What a surprise to find you here! Get out, and get to work, Jesus Christ."

"What owls haven't I answered?" I demanded at the clear injustice. "I thought there had been a lull in cases! _Goddamn it, Ravi_ ..." That demon owl was gonna pay someday.

Yael and Kayla just laughed and waved goodbye as I was banished from the office. You know, I've always thought it was just a personality quirk, but I'm starting to think that maybe I actually ought to get my bloody owl checked out sometime soon. When I got to the Bail Enforcement Office, it was to get my arse chewed out and then promptly sent to Chalk Farm to track down a bloke who had apparently assaulted someone at a concert.

"According to his statement, the other bloke said that 'The Stinging Nettles are trash, their music makes my ears bleed'," I scoffed down the phone as I flicked through the file. "Honestly, why go to the concert then, if you hate it so much?"

" _Why do we do a lot of things?_ " Emma I'm sure was grinning.

"True. Sorry, I'll probably be waiting around for this bloke all night–" Suddenly, and with no warning, my phone started making a high-pitched screeching sound. Startled, I nearly dropped the damn thing onto the pavement outside the house I was staking out, Emma's tinny voice still squeaking from the earpiece. "What the hell–? Emma? Emma, this thing is completely fucked!" I complained.

" _Fred? Fred – I can't hear you_ –"

"Yeah, no shit," I muttered, slamming buttons to no avail. Finally, something appeared to work and the thing shut up again. "Blimey!" I said, hesitantly bringing the phone back up to my ear. "That is why I never use this thing! I have a concealment charm over myself, that's probably why it's screwing up–"

" _It seems that most of your communication methods are unreliable these days_ ," Emma sniggered.

"Yeah, you know you're fucked when a cell phone is a more reliable method of communication than an owl."

" _I'll let you go, then_ ," Emma said. " _Oh! Wait, hang on though, just in case you do happen to find this bloke before midnight, I'm actually heading to my parent's house tonight. We're having a dinner for Lockie's birthday_."

"That's your nephew, right?"

" _Yeah, and Lara keeps reminding us that we HAVE to be there, so if you get home early and I'm not there, that's where I'll be_ ," There was a pause. Emma apparently got a little lost in her thoughts as I watched the house across the street. I didn't mind so much, since I was happy to just listen to her breathing, but eventually she added, " _Um … you could also come, if you wanted_."

And there was suddenly a crashing somewhere in my stomach.

"To your family dinner?"

" _You'd be more than welcome_ ," Emma insisted. " _I swear! Mum and Dad never mind. Katie loves ya and no doubt Henry will stick to you like glue_ …"

She trailed off, as if she'd just realised that these weren't exactly reasons that would entice me to come. But the more I imagined it, the more I kind of thought that I … wanted to be there. Yes, my head was suddenly screaming and I felt like I might just throw up over the pavement of this suburb of North London any second, but … there was something primal about it. I think it was a blatant desire for the Terry's to like me. Which didn't make a lot of sense, because when the hell had I started caring about what other people thought of me? But the last image Emma's parents probably had of me was yelling and wincing in pain as their oldest son punched my face in, and that wasn't exactly a great first impression, right?

I opened my mouth to make the snap decision, _yep, yes, I'm totally coming!_

However, I was brought up short rather suddenly when I quickly remembered, _oh shit._ My parents wanted me to go have dinner with them tonight. The owl from Mum (naturally, her owl wasn't crazy and actually delivered stuff properly) was still scrunched up in my pocket from earlier. I sighed into the phone, prompting Emma to say my name questionably. She had to be stressing as much as me on the other end, so I reminded myself that I could have dinner with The Parentals literally any bloody time of the week. Actually, thinking further ahead, this could be exactly the kind of blow off excuse I needed to avoid my sister.

"Your brother isn't going to punch me again, is he?" I asked, only half-joking.

" _Nah_ ," Emma said, relief that I hadn't outright said no clear in her voice. " _Only if he wants a punch back from me. 'sides, you haven't been a douchebag recently, have you?_ "

"You don't know what I get up to when we're apart," I quipped.

" _Oh, well. In that case, you can face my brother's wrath_."

"Considering that Ben immediately apologised about 50 times afterwards, I have a funny feeling that I won't be in that much danger," I said. "Your mother, on the other hand …"

" _Yeah, yeah_ ," Emma snorted. " _Just … come, if you can. Ok? I'll leave the address here. No pressure, I know you've gotta work and stuff, I just thought_ …"

"Hey, nah, I'll come," I found myself saying. "If I can I'll – oh damn, I've gotta go!" I suddenly noticed a light turn on in the house across the street. "Someone's turned up, hopefully I can arrest a bugger and be there in time – before midnight, did you say?"

" _Lockie will consume way too much sugar and finally crash about eleven so yeah_ ," Emma laughed. " _Go! Go get 'em_."

I hung up, shoving the malfunctioning phone into my pocket, wand gripped tightly in my hand.

Time to arrest a bugger!

* * *

"NO FUCKIN' WAY!" Henry exclaimed.

"HENRY," Rebecca Terry yelled from the kitchen.

"… _no fuckin' way_ ," Henry repeated then in a stage whisper.

Like Emma's predictions, her youngest brother had indeed stuck to me like glue the entire evening so far. I'd thought at one point he would prise off Katie's fingers with a crowbar to get at me! Emma, the bastard, just laughed in the background as everyone lounged around the Terry living room, myself having been locked in a state of almost-heart-attack ever since I'd stepped foot inside the damn place.

"Henry!" Lockie popped up from over my head. "You'll get in trouble sayin' bad words!"

"Like you don't already know all the bad words," Henry countered.

"Nuh-uh!" Lockie protested furiously.

"Am I allowed to finish the story?" I asked, loudly.

"Yeah, let him finish the story!" Katie insisted, sitting so close that she was practically in my lap.

I'd already told about 10 different work stories that I'm absolutely sure both Emma and Lara would kill me for telling, but I wasn't about to stop anytime soon. It seemed to be the one thing that captivated everyone (even Emma's Dad kept chiming in every now and then from where he was pretending to help clear the table) and if there was one thing I wanted to do, it was get these people thinking I was fabulous! So, telling the story of the old lady who'd kicked my arse once over unpaid fines it was.

Lara kept calling over at Lockie and telling him to calm down, but the kid was a livewire. Turns out it was his fourth birthday, and earlier today had been his party with several friends from preschool. You'd think that it would have tired the kid out and that he'd be passed out by seven o'clock, but NOPE. Emma's predictions were right; the copious amounts of cake and sweets consumed meant he was still crashing around, climbing the sofa behind me and occasionally falling on my head, at roughly 10.30 at night. Lara kept apologising, but Lockie was kinda amusing, so I didn't mind as much.

Emma glanced at me from where she was currently taking plates off her dad. Her nose scrunched up as she grinned and I shot her a look that I knew she had to be able to understand as, ' _you owe me big time_ '.

"Freeeeed," Lockie tugged on the short strands of my hair then. "Finish the story!"

"How are you still awake?" I asked.

"I'm not sleepy."

"You can stay awake all night, huh?"

Lockie nodded against my head, so I finished the story just for him. Henry was in awe, Katie was a thousand shades of red and it looked like that even Ben and Peter were trying not to make it obvious that they were listening intently. Martin, on the other hand, wasn't even pretending that he was helping to clean up. When I'd first turned up just before dinner was about to be served, I'd been practically bombarded by the force of the Terry family and could barely remember who was who. Eventually, I'd remembered that Peter was the brother who'd forgotten to plan their parent's wedding anniversary, and that Martin was his boyfriend. "The lady actually got the drop on you?" he asked excitedly.

"Martin, don't pretend you know what you're even talking about!" Peter yelled over the room.

"Ignore him. I watch plenty of cop shows."

"What do you mean, Uncle Martin?" Lockie asked.

"That this lady kicked my arse," I said. "Oh, wait, am I allowed to say that in front of the kid?"

"Henry's mouth has already corrupted 'im, don't worry," Katie said.

"Yeah, I've discovered all you Terry's have that effect."

" _So that means Emma's a screamer,_ " Katie hissed at Lara across the room.

I practically choked. "Katie!"

But Lara was laughing. "Ok! I think it's high time the birthday boy quit climbing over everyone," she said, moving over and hauling out her son upside down from behind us.

"Muuuuum!"

"Don't you 'Mum' me, we've already let you up way past your bedtime," Lara held her son tightly to her chest, his little feet waving next to her face as he giggled. "Time to start winding down, now. Let's go read some of your new books. Do you want me, or Dad?"

"I want Uncle Fred!"

Several pairs of eyes turned to me as I laughed it off. Lara, bless her, insisted that the boy give Uncle Fred a break and instead, enlisted Ben to start reading to him in the corner. Everyone started moving then, leaving me to watch Lockie settle onto his father's lap in the battered-looking armchair in the corner of the lounge, rubbing his eyes as he insisted he wasn't tired.

I honestly hadn't known quite what to expect when I'd taken up Emma's offer to come to dinner. It wasn't as if I was opposed to the Uncle Fred role. Hell, Clara had permanently set up camp inside a teeny weeny place in my heart, so I was going to be 'Uncle Fred' to at least somebody for the rest of my given life. Lockie was roughly the same age as Max Lupin, who also called me Uncle Fred, so I could understand how Emma's nephew might throw out the term. But I hadn't exactly expected that!

There was a lot about this evening that I hadn't expected, and it was admittedly paralysing me a little.

I'd barely gotten to speak to Emma all evening, now that I thought about it. Ever since I'd walked in the door, her family had been all over me, and she'd simply let them. Apparently, the days of her parent's wedding anniversary party and her being slightly embarrassed were gone! She was embracing the full weirdness of the Terry family, as she should be, considering what the Weasley's were like. She thankfully didn't seem to care anymore about filtering her parents or even that her childhood home was small and cramped. Hell, I liked the place! It reminded me of my parents' house in a way, with the odd splashes of magic here and there, thin hallways and narrow staircase to try and take up as little room as possible. There was yelling every now and then through the walls of the neighbours on the other side, and I'd noticed that the area outside had been a little rough, but it was nice in here. I liked it in here.

But as a result, I was blindsided and mostly overwhelmed.

"All right, I did the cooking, so I refuse to wash up!" Peter announced from the kitchen doorway, hands on hips.

"Excuse me, you did ALL the cooking?" Lara glared.

"Fine, Lara and I don't have to wash up," Peter sighed.

"You can't make me do it!" Henry piped up at once. "I'm the only one who can't do magic yet, it won't be fair!"

"Fine, we won't pick on the midget either," Peter teased his brother.

"Your father and Emma cleared the table," Rebecca Terry said, taking charge like a natural. "Martin, Henry, Katie, you can clean up in here, including _that_ –" She gestured to the sheer explosion of wrapping paper, currently shoved out of the way in a corner. How a four-year-old had managed to shred 6 square feet of paper into an avalanche was anyone's mystery. "Fred and I can wash up."

Everybody set to their tasks with a shuffling of feet and more teasing each other, so that it was several moments before I realised what situation I'd somehow landed myself in. "Heads up, Fred!" Rebecca was calling, throwing a tea towel in my direction, and it hit my face uselessly.

"Is your mother going to murder me?" I hissed at Emma as I passed.

"Possibly. Nice knowin' ya."

"Fuck you."

She snorted with laughter, shoving me in the direction of the kitchen.

I took a deep breath.

Rebecca was already at the sink, filling it with soapy water. Emma's mother didn't exactly _scare_ me. I'd met her before, technically, and that first time had been terrifying enough. Now, I knew that she was really just a sweetheart, but that didn't stop me from hesitating in the entrance to the kitchen. She was roughly a head shorter than me, with black curly hair the same texture as Emma's and it was weird to see bits of Emma in her. People look at me and my parents and automatically see the dark coloured skin from my mum, but often fail to notice any of my dad in me. I thought trying to pick out features of Mr and Mrs Terry in Emma would be just as difficult, but all of the Terry siblings were obviously theirs. This family felt more connected than I think I ever felt to my immediate family.

"Step on up, Fred!" Rebecca called, now directing the scrubbing brush with her wand. She sent a clean and wet plate whizzing through the air and I ended up catching it in my arms hastily. "Gotta think on your feet in this house!"

"I'm starting to notice," I answered, stepping up next to her.

We began a rhythm of washing and drying in a comfortable silence. A radio blared out pop songs somewhere which Rebecca hummed and bopped along to. I wondered for a while if I was actually going to get out of this kitchen without a third degree after all, but apparently, I always think too soon.

"So how long have you known Emma, then?" Rebecca asked innocently, dumping a large stew pot on me.

"Uh …" I stumbled under the weight. "I dunno … couple years now, I guess."

"You guess? You mean the date you met isn't burned into your memory?" Rebecca teased.

"It was Halloween, if that helps?"

"I suppose," Rebecca was thankfully still good-natured as we continued washing up. "So how come I'm only just meeting you properly now, then?"

I snorted without meaning too. Try years of idiocy, Mrs Terry.

"I – erm – we didn't really know each other that well the first year or so," I shrugged. "We didn't really become friends at all until my cousin's wedding, last November."

"Sometimes I can't believe I've got an actual Weasley standin' in my kitchen," Rebecca said.

"We are a rare breed," I grinned. "Don't worry, my uncle is the one people actually care about. My parents are George and Angelina, we're not as famous."

Rebecca laughed. "Oh, to be famous! You must tell your parents that they have to come over for dinner sometime."

"What – oh, no–" I stammered, glancing over at her. "You really don't have to–"

"Nonsense," Rebecca cut in over me. "Of course we have to! Alex and I would love to meet them."

I could literally only imagine what a joint dinner with my parents and the Terrys would be like, and I'd had enough emotional hurdles for one evening! I couldn't even imagine it without losing my mind. I stayed concentrating on the tea towel in my hand, drying plates and dishes as they came without magic. I felt like I needed to come up with something new to say, otherwise I might hear something come from Rebecca's mouth that I'd rather not, but I struggled for words. Determined not to screw up and make her hate me, I had no idea what was considered a safe topic of conversation over washing dishes!

"Do you love my daughter?"

"FUCK–"

I accidentally dropped a serving dish and it hit the floor with a loud CRACK that split the dish in two. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry, Mrs Terry–"

"Oh, it's fine!" Rebecca giggled, repairing the dish in a second, levitating it back up into her hands. "Although, maybe I'll put this one away."

"You … you went from zero to a hundred real quick there," I mentioned, weakly.

"I was building up. So seriously, do you love Emma?" Rebecca asked again.

I stared for a moment.

"How … how much has she told you?"

"Enough to know that this question should be included," Rebecca smirked.

"Stealthy."

"You're also not answering me still, I've noticed."

I stared at the cup in my hands that I was currently drying. Thankfully, the tea towel gave me something to do. 'Overwhelmed' just didn't cover it anymore! I was officially over my limits now, every inch of me screaming to get out of there. I genuinely liked Rebecca, and she was only asking questions that any mother would ask, but blimey my head was spinning!

What the ever-loving fuck do I say?

"If … if I answered yes," Dear lord, was my voice cracking? "Would you be surprised?"

"Not in the slightest."

I got the courage to look over at her. "How come?"

"This entire evenin', those looks you've been givin' her across the table? Be careful, mate," Rebecca chortled. "That's how I ended up married with five kids!"

"And … and you don't want to murder me?"

"Well, I've heard a few of the stories," Rebecca said, scrubbing the last few plates and handful of cutlery now. "Emma doesn't talk to me that much – apparently I'm _embarrassing_ or something – but I've gathered enough information. You're a damn sight better than the last boyfriend she had."

"But I'm not – we're not–" I closed my eyes tightly, my tongue stuck in my throat. "Thank you, Mrs Terry."

"Please! Call me Rebecca."

"Rebecca. Thank you for not killing me."

"You're welcome. Oh! I think we're done here now," Rebecca glanced around at the now clean dishes, waiting to be put away. "Don't worry, I'll force the kids to tidy the rest. Good team!"

"Yeah," I grinned. "Good team."

Quite honestly, I expected to get waylaid further by Alex Terry. I hadn't really spoken directly to him that much yet, and definitely not one-on-one. Considering the Spanish Inquisition by Rebecca, I expected him to pounce any second now, but apparently, the Dad of the Terry family seemed pretty chill at my presence. Hey, at least someone was.

No, I got further waylaid by Ben.

"You're not leaving yet, are you?" I heard his voice call from the front door.

I glanced back and noticed him in the doorway. The Terry's front garden basically consisted of a stone path that led to a rickety gate and fence, which is where I'd found myself leaning out in the cold. I hadn't intended on coming out here, but after escaping the kitchen I'd murmured to Emma, "I'm just gonna …" and gestured vaguely to the front door. I just needed to get outside for a while, breathe a little, try not to throw up a little. It was working, I promise – I think I was almost ready to go back inside again, I swear! – but apparently it was Ben Terry's turn to take a crack at me.

"Just getting some fresh air," I told him. "Lockie finally fall asleep then?"

Ben shut the front door behind him. "Yeah, start reading to him and he's out like a light. Sorry about him clinging to ya most of the night."

"Nah, it's fine, I'm used to kids."

"You don't have any, right?"

"Not me, no," I said rather quickly. "But my best friend has a baby, and I have a little cousin who's about Lockie's age. You're not here to punch me again, right?"

Ben practically tripped over himself, it was almost comical. "Oh, no!" he said earnestly. "I truly feel so bad about that! Actually, I wanted to talk to ya about it – make sure that we didn't have a problem? Because I genuinely think you're a swell guy, and–"

"Ben, it's fine," I held up a hand, trying not to laugh. "I'm not secretly cursing you, I get it. I can be actually described as a bastard sometimes."

"Emma did always go for that," Ben wrinkled his nose, smiling weakly.

"I'm not here to judge your sister's taste. Although I am incredibly attractive."

Ben snorted. "You're good for her, mate."

I begged to differ mostly, but before I could argue, the front door opened again. "Aha!" Peter joined us outside, closely followed by the two youngest Terrys. Where Emma was, I didn't know, but judging by the looks on their faces and Ben suddenly groaning in exasperation, I suddenly felt my defences go up. Oh shit. They looked like they were planning something. Peter folded his arms as the four siblings advanced.

"I see you cornered him like I asked! Good, good," Peter grinned.

"I didn't _corner_ him," Ben said, worriedly glancing back at me as if afraid I'd blame him. "I promise! Don't you think we're a bit too old for this now, Pete?"

Peter scoffed, stepping forward with Katie and Henry flanking him like some kind of musical villain. I'd always assumed that the second oldest brother was rather tame like Ben, but apparently Peter had a bit of an evil streak that I wasn't quite sure what to do with. "'sup, Fred," he said to me happily. "What Ben here probably has failed to tell ya is that we have a little tradition in the Terry family …"

"I'm sorry, babe," Katie added.

"Should I be scared?" I raised an eyebrow.

"This is ridiculous!" Ben huffed. "He's never gonna come round again!"

"Oh, Benny," Peter laughed, reaching out and hauling his brother into a headlock. As Ben's protests were muffled, I began to wonder who really acted like the oldest sibling in this family. "How little you remember! If he does turns up again, then we know he's a good bloke, right?"

"Can you guys just PLEASE explain what you're about to do to me?" I burst out. "I can't take the pressure!"

Ben tried to wrestle his way out of Peter's arms as Henry piped up eagerly, "Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough! C'mon guys, let's get goin' before Ems realises what we're doin'."

"Oh, Ems already knows," a voice came from the doorway.

It was almost funny to see every sibling's head snap towards Emma. Even Peter let Ben go without protest as suddenly, all of them looked super guilty. "Oh, yeah!" she said, arms folded across her chest as she glared. "Don't think I didn't notice all of ya disappearing' out here!"

"Emmaaaaa!" Peter whined. "Please–"

"What exactly are they gonna do to me?" I called over.

"They're gonna make you take a swim in a duck pond at a park not far from here," Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's a stupid tradition that we haven't done in years and I've got NO idea why these idiots have decided to bring it back now all of a sudden–"

"Emma, just 'cause we haven't done it in a while doesn't mean we can just skip him!" Peter protested, gesturing towards me. "I know you don't use the 'relationship' label, but come the fuck _on_ , girl. He ain't gettin' out of it!"

"Yeah!" Henry piped up.

"You know he's riiiiight," Katie also warbled. "Lara, Martin, they both did it!"

"I've got nothin' to do with this!" Ben added.

"It's three against two, Ben–"

"HEY!" I suddenly yelled over top of the arguing. "I'LL DO IT!"

All five faces turned to me.

Look, don't ask me if I know what I'm doing, because I don't have a bloody clue. All I know is that hey, whatever, it wouldn't be the first time I'd taken a dip in a duck pond! Some rather brutal cases from work had resulted in landing face first in a pile of duck sludge before, after all. It was hardly the worst thing and if this made the Terrys like me, then hell, I was willing to go through with what seemed to be a ridiculous initiation tradition. I wanted to look up at least, tell Emma that it was fine, but I didn't quite know how to reach her eyes.

This was getting …

Real. That's what it was, this was getting so fucking real, I didn't really know how to handle it. Whatever was happening between Emma and I, it was getting harder and harder to avoid talking about. Sooner or later one or both of us was going to snap and say something, anything, and it was the one thing that I had been afraid of ever since I'd thrown caution to the wind and kissed her again. I thought that I'd never be able to handle that conversation, that we would just keep doing this, just sleep together and stay friends and that that would be enough for some undetermined amount of time …

But I think it was starting to become not enough.

Staring Emma's siblings down, I realised that that was honestly where this was going. Somewhere along the lines, being too scared had turned into just _being_ scared. I wasn't afraid of loving her, I'd accomplished that small achievement a while ago, but just achieving that wasn't enough anymore. I wanted to look Emma in the eye one day and be able to say the words without also being blind drunk. I wanted to be able to spoon against her without breaking into a cold sweat. I wanted to just be fucking _normal_ , someone who didn't contemplate running away to France every time the word 'relationship' came up.

Someday.

It was gonna happen someday. I couldn't willingly come to a Terry family dinner and still pretend that it was enough, right? Maybe not now, maybe not for a while, but for the first time ever, I was saying _someday_. Someday, something was gonna have to change and I was admittedly still a little like Clara, wobbling and still learning to walk, you know? But this was me saying eventually. Eventually, I think I'm gonna ask Emma to hold my hand while I try.

Might as well start by getting thrown into a duck pond.

The Terry siblings were of course all arguing again as Emma thundered, "Don't be ridiculous! Fred, you're not doing anythin'–"

"EMMA, seriously!" I burst out once more, causing everyone to look at me. "I'll do it! C'mon, take me to this pond!"

Peter was laughing. "I like you, mate!"

"You're all divine. Let's just get it over with, yeah?"

Emma fluttered at the edge of the group, half-heartedly protesting, but she didn't try and stop her siblings from flanking me on all sides, practically keeping me at a frog-march as we made our way through the dark streets. Katie was fretting that my hair was going to get ruined, but I think even Emma knew that I wasn't going to be the only one to ever back out of the challenge. The park itself turned out to be little more than a reserve taking up half a block. The man-made duck pond was sizable and deep though, with grassy banks around the edges and groups of ducks quacking in the distance across the water. I shivered at the thought of diving in, but took my shoes off anyway.

"This is honestly ridiculous!" Emma cried as the others all cheered.

"Emma, I'm sorry – but shut the fuck up, yeah?" I tossed a shoe at her lightly.

Emma rolled her eyes as Peter started chanting, the others joining in, their voices soft at first but gathering volume and speed as I walked to the edge of the pond. "FRED! FRED! FRED!" their voices echoed off the dark trees and I threw an exaggerated wink to Emma … before jumping straight in.

* * *

"Honestly, what did you expect?" Emma was huffing as I shuffled uncomfortably across my lounge. "You jumped into the home of 50 odd ducks!"

"It wasn't that bad," I insisted.

Emma just turned and shot me a look.

"Ok, so I've probably got shit in my hair."

"You've got shit for brains, more like."

"Hey! I wasn't gonna be the only one who didn't step up and do it!" I said, following her as she aimed for the bathroom. I put away my mercifully dry shoes and followed her down the hallway, meeting her halfway as she emerged with a towel. I accepted it gratefully, having already pulled off most of my soaking clothes when we'd gotten back home.

"We haven't done the Pond Tradition in bloody years," Emma sighed, folding her arms as I towelled off. "I don't even remember the last time we did it. Might've been Mark, even."

"He actually did it?" I snorted.

"Well. He had to be thrown in," Emma smirked a little. "Not everyone's as crazy as you to just jump in willingly."

"How did the whole thing even start?"

"Hogwarts, actually," Emma said, following me into the bathroom as she explained. I dropped the towel and turned on the shower, peeling off the rest of my clothes as she carried on, "I think the first time was with a girlfriend of Ben's, back when it was just Peter and me at school with him. I was like, thirteen or somethin' and Ben was in seventh-year. We were all down by the lake and I _seriously_ did not like this girl. Peter felt the same, and this girl knew it, so she asked what she could do to make us like her. I swear, Peter said 'jump in the lake' as a joke!"

"And she actually did it? Also, are you joining me or what?" I added as I stepped under the spray. Blimey, the dirty water that ran down was a sight I never wanted to see again.

"Are ya kiddin'? You smell disgusting, I'm stayin' out here where it's safe," Emma laughed.

"Suit yourself," I called back over the water. "So seriously, this girl actually jumped in the lake?"

"Seriously! We were so stunned we actually took to the time to get to know her after that. Turns out that girl was Lara and they got married a few years after they left school," Emma was clearly smiling out there. "After that first time, we just kinda kept doing it, I guess. After we left school, obviously we didn't have a lake, so we turned to the good ol' duck pond down the road."

"So did I pass whatever the fuck this weird thing was, then?"

Emma paused a moment. I stuck my head around the shower curtain to see her leaning against the wall, apparently trying not to smile too much. "Yeah," she said, softly. "I'd say you passed pretty well."

"Brilliant. At least your brother didn't try to duel me again," I hid my own smile behind the shower curtain. I went back to washing my hair, anxious to get out and closer to her, as she continued talking.

"So another slight question," she began casually. "but uh, what did my mother end up saying to you earlier?"

"Haha! No way," I called back. "That is between Rebecca and myself! We're best friends, now."

"Bullshit," Emma scoffed. "She scared you so much that you're repressing the memory."

"You know, you keep playing it up, and I'll admit that you Terrys are a weird bunch," I said. "but you gotta face it: you're just not as crazy as you seem to think you are."

"You can't compare us to your family, that's not fair!"

"We do take the cake with family weirdness."

"Still. I hope she was good."

"She was totally fine. Only asked me several uncomfortably painful questions."

"Only?" Emma said in amusement. After moment, as the suds in the shower were starting to finally run clean and I'd gotten a majority of the bird shit out of my hair, she added, "But hey. I'm sorry you didn't get to talk that much to me tonight."

"Nah, nah, it's fine," I answered. "Hey, look, I'm mostly clean now! You sure you don't want to join? There's a spot against this shower wall just calling your name …"

"Wow. That's sure gonna entice me."

"Hottest thing you've ever heard, right?"

"I hate you," Emma shook her head. "Get out of there and MAYBE I let you kiss me a little."

"Just a little?"

"You gotta get out first."

I shut off the water, shivers going down my spine as the otherwise cool air hit me. I stepped out, looking for a clean towel, only to notice Emma's slightly glazed look. Sweet Jesus, she always hit me like a freight train. Her eyes didn't stray anywhere higher than my chest, flames dancing in them and it felt like she burned my skin with her eyes alone as her gaze strayed down my body. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to say anything. There's always something about being looked at that gets me. The attention was welcome, and it was always a good feeling to realise that someone could appreciate you like that. And not only did Emma blatantly stare at me, but she also seemed to be into my 'personality' as well or whatever, so one had to give her credit.

I smirked at her and she jumped slightly, glancing away.

"No, no! Clearly you want to get on top of all this, so I'm not gonna stop you," I grinned.

"Shut up," Emma scoffed.

"But I'm hot, right?"

"It's admittedly better now that you don't smell as much," Emma was still looking away, but I noticed the blush working its way up her neck, staining her pale cheeks red. I laughed and moved over to her, but she cringed back.

"No, wait! Fred, stop – you're all wet!"

"That should be my line later," I said.

"Oh my god – _nooooo_!" she shrieked as I pounced, trapping her arms against her side and hauling her in tight against my wet skin. She kicked her legs, tried to escape, but it was too late, her clothes were going to be damp and moist now. "I HATE YOUUU!" she whined.

"No you doooon't!" I held her tighter.

"You are terrible – GET OFFFFFFF!"

" _You're hot, too,_ " I whispered dramatically into her ear.

She burst out laughing.

* * *

A/N: THE TERRY FAMILY ATTAAAAACKS! I think it's safe to say that I love every single one of them. Look at my baby slowly growing up more and more each chapter! I honestly never thought we'd reach this point when I first started this story, I really didn't.

I'M SO SORRY this took longer than expected! I'm still nnnggggnnnn about life atm, but I'm slowly getting back on track with updating this thing. :) THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYBODY, your comments mean the world to me. x

Please let me know what you think! I love you!

\- Moon xoxo


	30. That one time I did something stupid

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 30: That one time I did something stupid.

"Honestly, you gotta try one of these little motherfuckers!" Emma bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet, offering up the cupcake currently in her hands. "Bless Sarah's husband. I've always said ya can't go wrong when you marry a baker!"

"Exactly how many of these things have you consumed today?" I asked in bemusement.

"Probs more than I should've," Emma admitted, screwing up her tiny nose. "You don't want these hips to get any wider, trust me."

"Well, the motherfucker certainly looks tasty," I pointed out, hoping that the thing wouldn't accidentally crumble in my hands. "And what the hell're you talking about?" I added, scoffing at her.

"What?"

"Don't pretend you don't know what," I insisted, pointing an accusing finger at her with the cupcake still in my hand. "You don't have to fish for compliments, y'know. Just ask, and I'll be the first to tell ya that your hips and literally everything else about you is goddamn perfect."

Emma bit her lip, apparently trying not to smile too much.

"NOPE, noooo, stop looking at me like that! I hate you …" I muttered, shoving the cupcake whole into my mouth to stop me from saying anything else.

Emma just laughed, face flushing red as she watched me devour the cupcake. She'd come home from work with about a dozen of them that Sarah's husband, Neil, had apparently baked for the entire Cursebreaker Office. I forgot that sometimes, Emma didn't like the way she looked. I personally never consider the idea since I literally don't think there's ever been a day she's looked less than incredible in her life, but still. Despite her massive confidence, there would still always be parts of her that would be insecure, just like there would always be parts of me that scream when I encounter change. It was who we were, right? I mean, the first time we ever slept together I remember there not being so much worry over our appearances – hell, I was practically naked because of my costume anyway, and I think we'd both been too consumed with first-time passion and awkwardness to give a fuck.

But the first few times after that I remembered well.

"Do you remember," I began a bit randomly as I finally swallowed the last of the cupcake in my mouth. "I think it was like, only the third time we ever slept together or something, but you tried to stop me from going down on you?"

Emma almost choked on her own cupcake. "Oh – good lord–" She coughed. "Why – WHY – are ya bringing that up?"

"I dunno, it just came into my head and I thought it was kinda funny now," I shrugged.

Emma rolled her eyes as she headed for the kitchen sink, pouring herself a glass of water to tame the accidental choking in her throat. I followed, nudging her hip with mine as I leaned my arse against the kitchen bench next to her. "C'mon," I grinned. "it's hilarious now!"

"Christ, Fred, I was so embarrassed!" Emma complained. "Seriously, do we have to talk about it?"

"Why not? You let me do it in the end, if I do recall," I mentioned, lightly. "You don't regret it, right?"

"As mad as you make me sometimes, I've never exactly regretted that mouth of yours," Emma smirked.

" _Ohhhhh_ , Miss Terry!" I grinned.

"Fine," she huffed, banging her glass down onto the draining board, before turning and leaning next to me. "I'll give in and let you reminisce about our past sexual encounters, no matter how embarrassin'."

"So why did you try and stop me then?" I asked, our shoulders and hips pressed together.

"I was terrified, Fred!" Emma exclaimed. "I'd never done the regular casual sex thing before with anyone, and for starters, I was nervous as fuck that I wouldn't be good enough. And before you even open that damn mouth," she cut in, as sure enough, I'd just been about to insist on her skills. "yes, I know that I am not, in fact, terrible in bed. But still. I'd slept with you like, what? Twice? And you were someone who'd somehow already seen me at my most emotional, not to mention seen the worst 'I'm coming' face imaginable. I guess I was determined to try and keep it at least somewhat dignified."

"Yeah, that didn't work."

"No, it didn't," Emma snorted.

"I like your 'I'm coming' face, by the way."

"Of course you do."

"Even if you do look like a rabid squirrel."

"I hate you, too," Emma shot me a look.

I just laughed, before carrying on, "I couldn't understand why you wouldn't let me. We'd already done it once before at that point."

"Exactly! You'd already seen me like that once, I couldn't possibly stand doin' it again," Emma said.

"But you let me in the end."

"Yeeeah, well. I trusted you," Emma shrugged, clearly trying not to smile too much. "Completely stupid of me, of course, but I did. I trusted that you wouldn't laugh at me, or that you wouldn't use it to manipulate me, that it would be ok. And it was, in the end, I suppose."

I got rather suddenly and unintentionally emotional at that. Bloody hell, Emma! I hadn't really thought about it before, but I guess there had indeed been a lot of trust between us right from the beginning. There sort of had to be when you were being that intimate with someone else. It was another thing entirely actually hearing it from her, however, and I forced myself to look away, eyes kind of stinging. I always recoiled from this kind of emotion, and in the past, this point of a conversation might have sent me barrelling out of the kitchen. But I was trying to learn.

"D'you remember the first time I went down on _you_?" Emma asked, innocently.

I think I squeaked and she burst out laughing. Maybe I should have left the kitchen, after all. " _Emmaaaa_ ," I whined.

"Oh, come on, we're apparently doin' this now!"

I just shook my head, groaning at the horror of the memory. "Princess, you know there is not one blow job from you that I don't remember."

"At least from then on you've given me proper warnin'!"

"Oh, come on, I thought we agreed to never bring this up?"

"What, makin' fun of the fact that you not only came too early, but also kneeed me in the stomach?"

"I SAID I WAS SORRY, DIDN'T I?" I cried. The night had ended with a half-naked Emma curled up in agony on my bedroom floor, except she was also laughing so hard that she could barely breathe. It was probably one of the most mortifying sexual experiences of my life, and that had to be saying something!

Now, however, Emma just giggled in response as she turned and hid her face against my shoulder. I glanced down at her, exasperatedly. I could feel her lips laughing in hysterics against my skin, until eventually, I noticed her move until it became more of a sensual, purposeful feeling. I smirked into her head of curls and asked,

"This conversation happen to be turning you on at all?"

She snorted, glancing up. Before I could say anything else, she had tugged my face to hers, effectively giving me my answer. She opened her mouth and we tasted each other, slowly and without hurry. There was no rush, no urgency, just a relaxed passion that spread as I moved to press her against the kitchen bench. Soon, she pulled me away from her lips and gave me wordless, explicit directions to head down her body. I smirked against her neck, fingers reaching out to her jeans, working at removing them. There was certainly no embarrassment, no hesitation this time around.

When she was significantly less clothed, I reached down and hauled her up onto the kitchen bench. She accidentally teetered at the edge of the kitchen sink and she ground out, "I swear to god, Fred, if you let me fall backwards I'll murder ya!"

"Don't worry," I grinned as I moved down. "You know I got other ways of making you wet."

She groaned, although I liked to think it was my amazing prowess at oral sex than most likely at the terrible pun.

* * *

Everything was happening around the same time this year, it seemed. Our birthdays were soon, but there was also the minor fact of James' damn Quidditch team actually making it into the league finals this year! The Chelsea Cheetahs was a fairly new team, only established around 15 years ago or something, and I don't think they'd ever actually made it this far before.

"I'd just like to thank my mum and dad for believing in me," James mock sobbed into his beer.

"You are ridiculous."

"Aw, c'mon, mate!" James cried, the fake tears receding so that he could grin, slapping me on the back. "It's the finals! THE BLOODY FINALS!"

"You haven't won yet, I'll point out."

"Hey, just by getting in, we've already made history!" James said, gleefully. "We've never gotten past the semis 'til this point! Remember last year? We were _flattened_."

"Yeah, Fred, give the man his moment!" Emma smacked me on the arm.

I shot her a look, but James just laughed and slapped her a high five. I think I'd forgotten somewhere along the way that before she'd even met me, James and Emma had been really good friends and still were. In fact, if it weren't for him and Libby, I never would have met her in the first place, which was too weird a concept to consider at this point. I'd been a bit reluctant to accept coming along to the celebration party with her tonight, only because I knew it would be one of the rare times James would see us together and like, _interacting_. Sure, he and everyone else in the world had already witnessed us get suuuuper handsy when we were drunk, but we were barely ten minutes into this thing so far. We hadn't had time to booze it up yet!

Although, considering the Chelsea Cheetahs, it might not take too long to catch up. It wasn't so much a 'party' than it was a 'raging screech-fest (with alcohol)'. I'd thought officially getting into the finals would require some kind of fancy to-do with champagne, photographers and the managers all in high-class robes, but apparently NOPE. Almost the entire Quidditch team (and I'm talking all 21 starring, reserve and practice players here) had used the totally appropriate Tuesday evening to take over _The Flash Dragon_ down Diagon Alley. James had owled earlier in the day, his writing barely legible in his excitement:

 _FRED –_

 _FINALS. FINALSSSSSS. HOLY TITS, WE'RE IN! WE'RE CELEBRATING TONIGHT, FLASH DRAGON, YOU AND EMMA SHOULD TOTALLY MEET US ALL THERE, IT'LL BE ROCKIN'! LIBBY'S GONNA LOOK AFTER THE TINY ONE, BLESS HER HEART, SO I MAY HAVE TO ALSO CRASH ON YOUR SOFA, KTHNX._

 _(FINALLLLSSSSSS!)_

 _JAMES._

Naturally, I couldn't say no to partying with a bunch of Quidditch stars.

"Oh, fine, I'll let you celebrate in peace," I mentioned then. "Besides, it's after this it'll kick in that he then has to actually play in a final match."

"Uuuuugh, don't remind me," James groaned.

"But you'll be fantastic, though!" Emma said.

"It'll be a nightmare!" James protested. "I'm trying not to think about it just yet."

"You might want more beer, then."

James peered down at his rapidly dwindling bottle. "I promised Libby I wouldn't get _too_ shit-faced tonight."

"Well, what the fuck did you do that for?" I snorted. I snatched the empty bottle out of his hand and threw an arm around his shoulders, steering him towards the bar. "Emma, we'll be back with more alcohol and more beers!" I tossed out over my shoulder. "Don't get too lost without me!"

"You wish," Emma called back with a laugh.

"Girl loves me, really," I joked as I shoved James through the crowd.

"Does she?" My dear cousin mused. As we ducked under wild arms and around groups of excitedly chatting Quidditch players, James continued, "Like, I know you're kidding and all, but …"

"Oh, piss off, mate."

"So no one's said the actual words, then?"

"Not saying the words!" I quickly yelled. "Jesus Christ, James, you want me to have a heart attack?"

"You've been together a while now."

I have NOT had enough Firewhiskey for this.

"James, I swear to fucking god …"

"Well, _isn't_ this something fairly serious?" James asked cheerfully, the two of us finally reaching the bar. It was unfortunately going to be a wait, what with dozens of people all currently hanging over it, trying to get their drinks first, and James was starting to freak me out. Where the crap was this all coming from? "You're in love, Fred."

"You think I don't – but that doesn't – oh, blimey, would you please just shut up?"

"Ah, I guess my subtle pushes are still a bit too premature after all," James sighed. "I guess I should've known. I mean, you still can't even label yourselves as a relationship, so I guess I can wait before I rib you about the real serious stuff!"

"Since when have Emma and I ever operated on labels?" I asked, desperately. "Not everyone needs them!"

"True, but are you avoiding it because you truly don't need it," James held up an accusing finger. "orrrrr because it would mean your first real relationship EVAH and you're terrified?"

"… I don't like psychologist-James," I grumbled.

"I live to give you shit, mate!" James said. Then, catching my expression, he added, "Oh, look, just chill, ok? You're clearly not ready for this conversation, I can tell by the blind panic in your eyes. Let's just drink ourselves into an oblivion and we'll talk again in like, a few years or something. Ok?"

I felt like I wanted to protest, but protest what, I wasn't entirely sure. Thankfully, a gap opened up at the bar, and we lurched forward to secure it, now focused entirely on being next to get the bartender's attention. That aforementioned blind panic was still burning through me, and tequila shots would probably 100% not help (when do they ever?), but that's how things spiralled from there anyway. It's not that I didn't want to hear James' words, like I'd come a long way! But I'd made enough leaps and bounds for now, right? I'd said 'I love you' at one point, I climbed buildings, I never want her to leave my bed and I even jumped into a fucking duck pond for that woman! For me, that was as fucking serious as I had ever damn well been.

It was enough, ok? Totally enough.

Although … occasionally, I did think about how I had technically said the words, and that she never had. I know, I KNOW, I said them in the worst way possible and of course she didn't say it back at the time, and OF COURSE if she did happen to say them now, I would no doubt go into some sort of meltdown … but sometimes it sort of hurt to know I'd been the only one who'd said it. I had no idea how she felt at all, really. I mean, I knew she liked me, I knew she enjoyed my company, and that she liked sleeping with me, but beyond that, we were shockingly good at avoiding talking about it. A part of me wondered whether I should say it again. I had come close a couple times, right? Hell, I'd nearly taken a chunk out of her shoulder to stop myself once!

 _But the last time you said it, she responded by telling you she's seeing someone else_.

Shut up, motherfucker inside my head.

 _No, YOU'RE the motherfucker!_

I can't even.

* * *

Eventually, several shots later, James and I were moving through the crowd once more. I didn't think the alcohol had hit me yet, but as soon as James dragged me over to several of his teammates, I realised that the Motherfucker inside my head now apparently had his shirt off and was running around my brain, waving it above his head, screaming 'WOOOOO!'

I swayed on my feet a little. Oh, yeah, it was hittin' me.

"Fred! You remember Luke and Billie, right?" James asked, throwing his arm around the girl's shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah!" I warbled at once. "I've seen ya around a few times! You come to our parties every now and then. Heeeey, congrats on gettin' into the finals!"

"Thanks!" Luke grinned as Billie scoffed a little under the weight of James' arm around her. I did vaguely remember the two, we'd crossed paths several times, and if I remembered correctly, these were the guys who'd been sleeping together on the side when it was forbidden for team members to 'fraternise' or whatever the hell. But they looked happy enough, or y'know, at least they did before they'd been interupted by James the ever-annoying-cock-blocker.

"Mate! _Maaaaate_ –" James squeezed Billie tighter. "Can you believe it? Like really, REALLY believe it?"

"Oh, we're all fucked, for sure," Luke nodded earnestly.

" _Honestly_ ," Billie sighed.

"Shut it, you," Luke grinned. "we're not all wildly confident in ourselves."

"You are both really good players," Billie said, hardly an inflection in her voice. She announced it like it was a boring shopping list. "It is ridiculous to be nervous."

"BUT IT'S THE FINALS!"

"And we probably won't win," Luke added. "The Wasps are hellfire, they've smashed everyone this season so far!"

"The fact that we even made it is a miracle!" James cried dramatically.

"Aw, I agree with this one, here," I smirked, figuring that Billie would appreciate a fist bump, rather than the strangle-hug James was currently giving her. The girl's mouth quirked a little as I held up my fist and she returned the bump. "You're gonna be fiiiiine! You'll kick arse and take home the trophy. Oh my god, it's that fuckin' huge one, isn't it? Didn't someone pee in it one year?"

"Dick Paisley," Billie confirmed, as the others roared with laughter. "It caused quite a controversy."

"Jesus Merlin," Luke rubbed his eyes. "I forgot about that."

"We might win the Piss Cup, excellent!" James grinned.

"And hey, if you do happen to lose," I pointed out. "The Wasps will have to accept the Piss Cup instead? Sounds like a win-win to me."

"Oh, man. I can't believe – _wait_ –" James suddenly cut himself off, glancing down. I exchanged a look with Luke in confusion, but apparently neither of us knew what made him pause. James suddenly reached down with his free arm and snatched up the hand of Billie's that was between them. He held up her hand incredulously, staring at the pretty ring on her finger.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" he practically screeched.

"James, I think you know what it is," Billie said casually.

James just stared between his two friends for a moment, still holding her hand. Then he yelled, "YOU GUYYYYS!" and flung both his arms around Billie's shoulders. He hugged her enthusiastically for a moment, before letting go and practically leaping towards Luke.

"James – mate, it's not that big a deal–" Luke's muffled voice cried out.

"ARE YOU KIDDING?" James pulled back, now in the middle of the two, each with a hand on their shoulders and looking like he might cry with excitement. "Is this for real? Like, this isn't like the time he proposed back in New Zealand, right?"

"No, he did it properly this time," Billie said, almost with a slight smirk as Luke shook his head.

"C'mooon," he complained. "Do we ALWAYS have to bring that up?"

"Ya kidding?" James laughed, practically bouncing on his feet.

"I will never let you live it down," Billie insisted.

"Well, that sounds like a riveting story!" I cut in, hastily. "And I think what James means is congratulations?"

"Thanks, man," Luke accepted my handshake as James continued to just jump up and down.

"But wait – does Malvolio know about this?" James suddenly paused. "Oh, shit–"

"He's been fine with us going out, he can be fine with us getting married," Billie said firmly.

James scoffed. "I don't know about the word _fine_ –"

"Well, ok, he's tolerated it," Luke rolled his eyes. "but hell, other teams are allowed to marry their teammates if they want to! We're the only ones who seem to be stuck in the dark ages, so our bloody manager can just suck it."

"Maybe we won't tell him until he gets an invite to the wedding," Billie quipped.

"Bold. I like it!" I said.

"Guarantee we'll be murdered, but I concur," Luke moved forward with a smile. "my wife-to-be is a genius."

Billie scoffed, but still let him kiss her.

The kiss reminded me of Emma. EMMA! In all the subsequent excitement of James demanding that he hear the full story of his friends' engagement, I'd completely forgotten that I'd abandoned Emma at some point to fend for herself at this party. I started searching for her through all the people as Luke prattled on, although those shots were REALLY starting to hit now. _Oooooh, blimey_ … I teetered on my feet again as I took in the group of team members from the practice squad playing a loud drinking game at one table. A bloke I recognised as the Cheetah's Keeper tottered through the crowd, calling out to someone across the way. Excited bar-goers were flocking in by the dozens as no doubt, the rumour of the Chelsea Cheetahs celebrating here spread far and wide. I thought it would be a miracle to find Emma in the chaos, but then I caught a glimpse of her hair and leaned around Billie to finally spot her talking to someone –

Oh, no.

"Oh, FUCK ME."

"What?" the others all turned in confusion at my outburst.

"Nothing, nothing!" I said. "I just forgot 'bout your team captain, that's all."

Luke and Bille were clearly none the wiser, but James got it at once.

"Oh, shit," he suddenly deadpanned.

"Oh, yes."

"Emma's not–"

" _Oh, yes_."

"Fred," James warned. "Don't do anything stupid!"

"Nah, nah. 'course I won't."

I'M ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING STUPID.

* * *

"SEBASTIAN, MY BUDDY, MY PAL!" I suddenly yelled, turning up out of nowhere.

The man spluttered slightly into his drink as I slapped him hard on the back. Cheetahs Team Captain, Sebastian Cortez, was rather unfortunately still as hot and suave-looking as ever, his damn hair enticing women ever since what was no doubt the dawning of time. I couldn't fault Emma for having such a crush on him, I might have as well if he didn't also happen to make me Rage™ every time I fucking saw him. I noticed that Emma's face had gone rather pale at me turning up, while Sebastian was too busy choking. GOOD.

Keep choking, motherfucker.

"It's – it's Fred, right?" he coughed.

"Ah, so you remember me! Wasn't sure, it's been a while."

"You don't forget the bloke who punched you in the face," Sebastian mentioned, finally starting to get his breathing back under control.

"I'm so sorry," Emma began hastily. "I swear to god, Fred–"

"Oh, don't you worry about me," I said, still with that weird cheerful tone that I wasn't entirely sure where it was coming from. "I'm at least six shots in now, I'm havin' a _maaaaarvellous_ time!"

"Look, Emma, it was lovely seeing you again," Sebastian said, shooting me a wary look. "but uh, I better find another drink, so–"

"You mean you aren't offering this fine lady a drink of her own as well?" I mock gasped, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "WHERE ARE YOUR MANNERS?"

" _Fred_ ," Emma said harshly.

"Look, cut the weird shit, I know you have a problem with me," Sebastian suddenly snapped, turning to actually face me. "So please, let's just have it out already, yeah?"

Ok, I've had my arse kicked enough times over my 25 years to know when to back down. But there was something about Sebastian that apparently just turned me into a wanker, because I literally couldn't help but rib him! To think there had once been a time that I'd simply been indifferent to the man. Oh, the good ol' days.

Then, of course, he kissed Emma and everything got fucked up.

"Mate, I don't wanna 'have it out', per say," I said. "I have found, however, that I feel weirdly compelled to make you as uncomfortable as possible, it's a kind of odd sensation, really–"

"Ok. Fuck you, man," Sebastian sighed.

"Sebastian, I am so sorry, believe me–" Emma tried to say, but he held up a hand.

"Emma, it's fine," he said. "I saw you here tonight, just thought I might talk to you. I didn't realise that I would be walking straight into the middle of whatever the hell _this_ shit is again," He gestured vaguely between myself and Emma. "Tell me, did I ever have a chance? Or was it always this bastard?"

Emma sighed. "I wish you could of, truly…"

He held up a hand. "Say no more. I wish you the best, Emma. As for you–" He paused as he made to leave, glaring at me. "Damn, I have no words …" he muttered before moving away back through the crowd.

I grimaced, turning to face Emma hopefully, only to have her kick me in the shins.

"OUCH!"

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?" she yelled.

"I should be sayin' that!" I complained. "Blimey, that hurt!"

"It bloody well better! Sweet baby Jesus, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

"I saw you talking to Sebastian Fucking Cortez! What do you THINK is wrong with me?" I cried.

Emma moaned, rubbing her forehead a moment. Then, she grabbed my hand and literally dragged me through the pub. It was a blur of motion and squeezing through the people before eventually, we were out in the cool street. It was significantly quieter out here with the music dialed down now to just thumping from inside the pub, but this end of Diagon Alley was always a buzz of nightlife these days, even if it was a Tuesday. Emma continued to drag me away from the line of people waiting to get into the pub, eventually stopping some feet down near a lamp post.

"Ok, let me get this into your _dumb fuckin' brain_ ," Emma growled. "I was talking to the bloke! TALKING. Before you bloody showed up, I was actually trying to figure out a polite way to say I wasn't interested in gettin' a drink with him! Actually no, I don' even care 'bout that, I don't have to justify whatever the hell I was sayin', I am mad because YOU ARE A FUCKIN' ARSEHOLE!"

"You know I don't like him!"

"YOUR POINT?" Emma positively shrieked. I noticed the bouncers over at the pub glance in our direction slightly. "Fred! You can't just act like an arsehole to people you don't like, that's not how the world works!"

"Ok, ok! I'm an idiot, I'm sorry!" I yelled. "but you know why I can't stand the bloke and his stupid perfect hair!"

"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH HIM, I'M SLEEPING WITH YOU, YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT!"

"BUT YOU LIKE HIM!"

"For god's fucking sake, Fred! He's a celebrity crush!" Emma ran a finger through her curls agitatedly. "Yeah, I'm sooo totally in love with him – Christ, normally you never even get to _meet_ your celebrity crushes, let alone get kissed by them!"

"Don't remind me!"

"Oh, grow up," Emma glared. "You know it's not serious, it never is, not like–"

But she quickly cut herself off and I blanched a little, since I think it was clear where that sentence had been going. _Not like we are_. Not like how we were serious. We were the ones who actually had something together and I shouldn't be jealous, I really shouldn't, but I was anyway. Good loooord. This argument was starting to get a little out of hand, don't you think? At least the bouncers seemed to think so, since one of them started heading over at that point, and Emma grabbed my arm. Suddenly, she had Apparated us back home and it was now so quiet that my head was throbbing.

Tell me, when are tequila sots ever a good idea?

"You are SUCH a dickhead!" Emma huffed, stalking away from me and pulling her jacket off. She threw it viciously at a chair. "And you can forget about angry sex on the kitchen table, I'm not doin' that shit again!"

"Oh c'mon, I'm not THAT shallow!" I exclaimed. "Look, I know, I'm a jealous arsehole and I cock up everything! I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I had to watch you interact with the wanker, but I'm a bag of shit as well for overreacting and …"

Emma just scoffed, folding her arms in front of me. "'Overreacting' is puttin' it a bit mildly."

"Yeah, I reeeeally don't act normal around him, do I?"

"At least you didn't punch him," Emma snarled. "I'm tellin' ya, I wouldn't be traipsin' into the Auror Office to bail your arse out of Azkaban. I'd sit back and laugh at the irony of the bail enforcement agent being stuck in jail."

"You are ruthless when you're pissed."

"You've only just noticed?" Emma spat out, but then she sighed, closing her eyes.

"Emma," I said, voice going a little croaky at that look. "honestly, I'm … I'm genuinely sorry."

"Look, Fred," She opened her eyes. "I'm angry. Just let me be angry for a while, ok?"

"Ok," I said, weakly.

"You can go back out with James and the others if you want," she said, all the energy draining out of her voice now. "Or not, I don' care either way. I'm goin' to bed. Just, do not disturb me until it's at least midday."

"Gotcha," I watched helplessly as she retreated to our room without so much as a backwards glance.

* * *

I ended up at James and Libby's place.

"Fred, I swear to god …" my friend said, hurrying in as I accidentally crashed over the coffee table in the dark, landing face first on the sofa.

"FUCK – shit–" I swore. "I didn't wake Tiny Human, right?"

"Don't worry, Tiny Human hates sleeping anyway," Libby said, hastily moving forward to help me up and dump me on my arse instead of my face. "What the hell are you doing here? James said you were both gonna crash at your place?"

"Libby, listen – my dear, sweet Libby – I done fucked up!" I announced.

I hadn't been able to go back out and find James again. Not because I didn't want to be around him, but because I might've run into Sebastian again. And I couldn't stay at home, because Emma hated me and had somehow managed to kick me out of my own bed (yeah, get back to me on THAT one) so my last option somehow ended up being crashing Libby's place and hopefully peacefully going to sleep on her sofa.

Apparently, I can't even do that right.

Libby sighed, before flicking on a low lamp, dimly illuminating the lounge before sitting down next to me. "Go on, then. What the hell did you do this time?"

"I should've known it would happen!" I warbled. "I am so stupid. Hey – hey – sorry if I throw up at one point, I think I'm still drunk, there was a LOT of tequila–"

"I'll get a bucket," Libby said dryly, though she didn't move. "Look, Fred, I've seen you in literally any inebriated state you can imagine, not to mention that I have a nine month old baby. Vomit is nothing to me. So what happened?"

"We maaaay've run into Sebastian Cortez while we were out."

Libby snorted a little before covering her mouth with a hand. "Oh, god."

"You geddit!"

"Oh _goooood_ ," Libby groaned, moving her hand to smack me round the head. "What did you do?!"

"Ow! Heeey, I've been beaten up enough already!"

"So help me, Fred Anthony Weasley–" Libby thundered.

" _Fiiiiine_ , I didn't punch him again," I explained. "but I may have acted like a total dick and ruined the whole night. Emma's mad at me."

"That girl has balls of steel," Libby said. "I don't know how she ever puts up with you."

"But you love me, right?"

"Fred, I'll always love you," Libby shook her head. "Unless like, you kill someone in cold blood or something."

"That could be arranged."

"I don't doubt it," Libby just sighed, resting her head on my shoulder. I appreciated the gesture, her weight comforting. I leaned my head against hers as she asked, "What did you even say?"

"Oh, I dunno exactly," I muttered. "Basically, I wanted to make him so uncomfortable that he left. He asked Emma if he ever stood a chance with her."

"What did she say?"

"No, only not quite in so many words."

"You're such an idiot, Fred," Libby said. "You can't be a dick to any bloke Emma's ever dated, ever."

"Thank you for reminding me that she's actually gone out with this guy."

"Yeah, and it didn't go anywhere because of you," Libby mentioned. "I remember it quite vividly."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "Christ, all I've been doing is apologising."

Of course, that was the moment Clara happened to wake up. Libby sighed as her cries echoed from down the hall and I apologised about another 50 times as she straightened up. "Fred, stop it, it's fine," she insisted. "She might just settle on her own if I leave her …"

However, Clara kept screaming the house down. Libby made to get up with resignation that her baby wasn't going back to sleep without her, but I quickly grabbed her shoulder, slamming her back down onto the sofa. "Don't worry, Lib! I'll get her! And I won't kill her or make her mad, I promise," I insisted.

"Fred, you're drunk as all hell," Libby pointed out. "I love ya, but–"

"Please?" I pleaded. "I don't want every woman in my life to hate me."

Libby hesitated. Then, she said,

"Oh, fine. Come with me, then."

It had to be against her better judgement, but still Libby let me tag along in going and getting her daughter. Opening the door to Clara's bedroom felt like it was amplifying her cries by about a million and I had to wonder how anyone in this entire building got any sleep. Clara had pulled herself up onto her pudgy feet that couldn't quite hold herself up by themselves yet, holding onto the bars of her cot in her cute birdie pyjamas. The adorableness was of course dampened by her crying hysterically.

"Claraaaaa," I whispered, moving over and rubbing her back. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I probably woke you with all my yellin' about Auntie Emma. Please don't cry, go back to sleep, yeah?"

While Clara loves me, I'm sure, it was clear that she wasn't going back to sleep without Libby. I glanced back at her, and she moved forward to gently pick up her daughter, hugging her to her chest. "Hey, shhhh," she murmured to Clara. "It's ok, it's just Mummy and Uncle Fred, we're here …"

There was a small sofa in Clara's room, probably to make it more comfortable for moments like this when Libby had to get her back to sleep. She sat down with Clara and I joined them. As bad as I felt, it was kinda cool at least to watch Libby settle her baby. Quiet, reassuring words and holding her close eventually managed to calm Clara down so that she wasn't crying anymore. When she was yawning against Libby's shoulder, she whispered to me,

"This is when I should put her back in bed, but I don't want to."

"Then don't?" I shrugged.

"I'm terrible," Libby murmured, nose pressed close to Clara's hair. "I know I should be encouraging her to sleep in her cot, but it's so tempting to just keep her here with me."

"Welp, I'm already a bad influence, so might as well go all the way," I said. "Go on, be a bad mum for a bit."

Libby shot me a look, but she was clearly trying not to smile. "Oh, Fred," she muttered. "How did we end up here?"

"You fell for my best friend, and I fell for yours."

Libby blinked a little at that, before sniggering. I couldn't help but laugh as well, since it was a bit of a weird scenario we'd ended up in. It hadn't been quite as simple as that one statement put it, but essentially that was what happened, right? That's how the two of us ended up sitting on a sofa with a baby at what was no doubt some ungodly hour in the morning. I knew I was an idiot. I knew that I couldn't just beat up every bloke who had ever been even remotely interested in Emma, as much as the idea appealed. Hell, I'd always been jealous, but Sebastian Cortez was the only one who really got under my skin, you know? I guess it was because getting jealous at James' birthday like that for the first time was when I had really realised what I was actually feeling, and it was all thanks to him. So I suppose I had Sebastian to thank, if I wanted to get super technical about it, but really all I wanted was to strangle him, soooo.

Yep. We're at this point.

"I'd ask you what do I do now," I mentioned. "but you'll answer 'go home' won't you?"

Libby smiled as Clara snuffled a little. "The boy can learn," she said. "but in the morning. You're not like James and me. Our anger kind of simmers underneath everything else for a while until we eventually get past it, but with you and Emma it's either all or nothing, I've noticed."

"She was pretty mad," I admitted.

"Sleep here. Go home in the morning," Libby said, firmly. "I know my girl, she'll have calmed down by then."

"What would I do with you?"

"I shudder to think sometimes," Libby stood then, one arm still wrapped around her sleeping daughter while gesturing to a blanket over the back of the sofa with the other. "You can use that. Technically it's Clara's, but I think it's currently clean. I'm putting this one back down and going to sleep for a trillion years. If you hear James come in, tell him he's the one getting up with Clara in the morning."

"'night," I grinned.

" _Boys_ ," I heard Libby whisper to her daughter as she moved for the cot. "Don't ever bother, Clara, please."

* * *

James got in around six in the morning, which was about when Clara woke up bright and perky.

"I am dead," he moaned, lying on his back on the sofa in the lounge, arms and legs starfish-ed out all over the place. Clara was cuddling him contently on his chest while Libby was naturally, still asleep.

"Toast?" I offered the piece I was munching on.

"Don't get me started on you," James said, forearm covering his eyes in what was clearly total and utter pain. "Where the hell did you go? You disappeared and I didn't know whether it was cool to crash at yours anymore, bastard! Ohhhh, ow," he added in a whimper, rubbing his forehead. Clara babbled a little, patting his face.

"I may have had an altercation with your team captain," I admitted.

"GODDAMN, Fred."

"Libby can explain," I said. "I gotta head back. Bye-bye, Clara! Don't kill Daddy," I grinned, reaching down to ruffle the baby's hair.

James attempted to throw a cushion at me, but it basically just flopped over on the carpet. I really didn't want to Floo home and face Emma, but I was admittedly exhausted, hungover and wanted the comfort of my duvet and pillows. Hell, I didn't even know if she'd still be there when I got home. Why wouldn't she just leave and head back to her own flat? I know I would have! Yes, she probably wasn't even there, I braced myself, as I finally got up the guts to step into the flames. Nothing was amiss once I was spat out of the fireplace at home. It was quiet in the kitchen, Ravi's perch even empty again. I clenched my jaw as I moved down the hall and tentatively opened my bedroom door.

She was still there.

She was sleeping soundly on what had become her side of the bed. I couldn't see her face, her hair was kind of in the way, but the rest of her looked cosy, arms outstretched and lord almighty, there was nothing I wanted more than to simply crawl in on top of her and pass out. However, instead I kicked off my shoes, too tired to even put them away, and just anxiously debated whether to flop down on top of the covers or not.

Right when I was deciding fuck it, I'd sleep on the sofa, I heard her say,

"Hey."

I glanced up to see that she was apparently awake, her hair a mess and eyes smudged black. She totally rocked that look. God, my hands itched to touch her.

"Hey. I'm sorry," I found myself whispering. "Really, I am."

"I know."

She couldn't quite reach my eyes. Instead, she watched her twisting fingers at the edge of the duvet.

"Are you still mad at me?" I asked bluntly.

Emma just smirked. "You've done stupider," she remarked.

I half-heartedly grinned back.

"Look, at the end of the day, what did you do? You were a total douchebag to someone in front of me and basically, I was just embarrassed. You're dumb, and you need to learn how to control yourself, but I might've done the same thing if it was you talkin' to some girl."

"You're way too nice to do that," I shook my head.

"I hate you," Emma said. "I don't even know why I like you, but get back in bed, idiot."

I got to crawl in on top of her after all.

* * *

You've never lived until you've waited in line for Quidditch tickets.

The Ticket Distribution Office was situated in Diagon Alley, for all its public consumption needs. The brightly painted building would open it's doors usually at 9am, except on certain particular days, it would be opening at 7am. If you were lucky, you would be one of the first 40,000 people to get inside and buy tickets to whatever upcoming Quidditch match opened that day. I'm not kidding when I say that people literally camp out in line, just so they can be the firsts to get those tickets. For something as big at the league finals, people would be hovering around the office anywhere as early as three days before, ready to pitch up tents as soon as the security guards would finally let them.

We weren't quite so insane, although I had to wonder what it must feel like to be the first in line with literally thousands of people behind you, stretching down the entire cobblestoned street of Diagon Alley. The other shops hated it on ticket release days, simply due to the sheer amounts of people blocking off the street. "No one even comes in when tickets are on sale!" Dad would always complain, grumbling outside the joke shop as the people sat in line. "It's utter madness!"

"But you want me to get you a ticket when I get to the front of the line, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Dad would say at once.

Anyway. For the finals, we joined the line a full 24 hours before they went on sale and were still somehow at least halfway down the line. You couldn't even see the office from here! The Weasley family in general tends to hold several 'spots' that we all take turns manning until our time comes to actually buy tickets. Tired Law Enforcement Officers patrolled the line with scrutiny, handling line-jumper claims and arguments almost constantly. During my designated time to man the spot I shared with Emma, James and Libby, I managed to grab my dear Sapphire to accompany me.

"You know, every time I say it's not worth waiting," Sapphire shook her head as we lounged in the deck chairs that we'd brought along to the wait. "and then every match, this is where I end up. Why the fuck am I here?"

"You adore me."

"When was the last time you even came into the office anyway? It was a miracle you even caught me there!" Sapphire said, resting her chin on her fist, elbow planted on the arm of her chair. "I swear, I never see you anymore!"

"Auror results are officially pending!" I said. "Trying not to think about it too much, which is generally done by harassing Yael and Kayla rather than like, doing my job, or whatever."

"How you have not been fired before now is a mystery."

"I am a conundrum!"

"Nothing on Reddale recently, then?"

"Nothin'," I shrugged. "Not from what I've heard, anyway. Yael and Kayla got downgraded to a tiny table shoved in amongst some pot plants."

Sapphire snorted. "Bet that made 'em cry."

"You're so sensitive, Saph."

"Like you can talk," Sapphire rolled her eyes at me.

"I'm sensitive!"

"Like buggering fuck you are," Sapphire said. "You wouldn't admit to yourself for months that you even had feelings for Emma!"

"Tides ebb and floooow, Sapphire. We change as time moves onnnn."

"Fred, what the fuck."

"Ok, so maybe I'll never be voted 'the sensitive one'," I said exasperatedly. "but I'm not the same person as who I was last year. Or even the me from a few months ago! I can recognise feelings now." Well, I could certainly recognise jealousy at any rate. I'm not sure that Sapphire was really convinced, though, so I kind of ended up telling her the story.

"Wait – Sebastian Cortez – damn, he's the really fit one, right?" she asked.

"You know, I probably could've handled it if he wasn't hot!" I said, dramatically. "As it is, he's a bloody dreamboat, and Emma's had a crush on him since before she even met me."

"What did you do, punch him?"

"Oh, no! That was the first time."

"I can and also can't believe that I haven't already heard that story," Sapphire mentioned. "Fuck it, just keep going. So if you didn't punch him, what happened?"

"Oh, I just acted like a douchebag. Emma screamed at me, but because she's a fucking angel and all that, she's mostly forgiven me."

"I'd never forgive you."

"Cheers, mate."

"You got lucky with that one," Sapphire scoffed. "I would've whipped your arse, and she seriously still loves you and all that shit?"

"Well, I assume so, since she let me back into my own bed," I mentioned. "Let's face it, I've done stupider. This isn't the dumbest thing I've ever done. Not that she loves me, but whatever."

"What d'you mean, _not that she loves me_?" Sapphire demanded.

Oh, c'mon. "Saph, I'm not getting into this."

"Tough shit! We always get into it, explain yourself."

I guess Sapphire always got the goss, somehow. I don't know how she drags it out of me, but it had been going on for years now, so I guess I was never getting out of it. "Saph, does it surprise you to know that no one's ever actually said the words?" I tried not to talk too loudly, as if muttering would make it less intense.

"Oh, shitballs. I guess not," she said. "But you definitely do, right? Like, you're definitely still in love with her, right?"

"Stop saying it!" I complained.

"Oh, give over. Why haven't you told her?"

"I'm never saying it again, if I can help it."

"Did it ever occur to you that if you said it, she may just say it back?"

"Did it ever occur to you that if she didn't, that would be twice I've said it and a grand total of zero times for her?"

"FRED," Sapphire leaned forward in her chair. "This isn't something to keep score on! If it's the truth, you tell her! Yeah, there's some unwritten rules around saying it – like, make sure you mean it, don't say it on the first date, blah, blah, blah – but at the end of the day, if you feel it and you have a fairly good idea that you won't be cursed dead in response, then I reckon you should say it. Blimey, haven't you ever wanted to?"

Only a million times. I knew Sapphire meant well, but the words meant a big deal to me, ok? With the absence of Firewhiskey, I felt for sure that they were only ever going to make an appearance in a wildly exceptional circumstance! Sapphire had absolutely no idea what it would mean. It would mean admitting that I'd somehow let this woman into my life, let this woman own every part of me. She knew me, she knew every side of me. She could make me do anything. I swear, I would literally commit crimes for her, and it was the Number One Thing I had been terrified of ever since I was a teenager! I didn't ask for it, I tried to stop it, but it hadn't worked and so despite the terror, I worked on accepting it and just let it happen. I swear I fell for Emma a little more every day and while I could say that inside my own head now, getting the words out was another matter entirely.

I would not be able to handle another rejection.

"Of – of course I've wanted to," I hoped to god my voice hadn't cracked. "but I'm not."

" _Ever?_ "

"Look, I don't know!" I said, getting frustrated now. "I haven't thought that far ahead! If Emma hasn't killed me before our birthdays it'll be a miracle, at this rate."

"Well, maybe start thinking?" Sapphire shrugged. "Y'know, for now."

I was going to respond, but we both suddenly got distracted by something happening further up the line. Like I mentioned, we were nowhere near the ticket building, but apparently several spots up an altercation was brewing over at least 30 people trying to join the line thanks to one person holding the spot. "I'm sorry, two people maybe, but I'm not having the entire bloody family cutting in front of me!" someone was yelling and we all hastily climbed to our feet and on top of chairs to witness the commotion. Someone else from the group was arguing back and before anyone else could move, several Law Enforcement Officers leapt in with cracking wands and much yelling!

" _Oooohhh_ …" Sapphire and I winced.

* * *

A/N: I feel like a million things were happening in this chapter. I'm sorry, I hope this chapter still works, and I'm soooo sorry that my updates are still taking forever! I'm working on getting better, promise. :D

Basically, Fred will always be a jealous idiot because of Sebastian, Clara will always be cute and Quidditch will always pop up in my fics! I couldn't tell you how much more of this story there is to go. I want to say we're over halfway, but WJML ended up being 45 chapters and we're already up to 30 here, sooooo. Who tf knows. Either way, I hope you liked it!

Seriously, please let me know what you think! Comments mean the world to me and honestly make me want to write more. x  
I love yall, and I hope you're all enjoying the festive season!

\- Moon. xoxo


	31. That one time I tried to fix some things

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 31: That one time I tried to fix some things.

Despite fallouts over Sebastian Cortez (who I don't think I would ever, ever like, even in 50 years) Emma and I still managed to score tickets together to go and watch the League Championship Finals. From the time the ticket office actually opened, it took another 9 hours on top of the previous 24, but hey, we we're fucking doing it!

"So far it's Mum and Dad, you and Emma, Rose, Scorpius and Al – Bea's somehow managed to get herself in again as a reporter, even though she doesn't even cover sports–" James had babbled with a couple of days to go until the game. "Libby is bringing Clara to her first match ever, even though I'm totally certain she is too young still, but OH WELL – and basically the rest of the entire family, so the whole world will be watching and IT'S NO PRESSURE OR ANYTHING!"

"You're handling it well," I'd noted.

"SHUT IT, FRED!"

To be honest, I wasn't entirely betting on the Cheetahs actually winning or anything. Like, the Wasps had killed every team they'd come up against this season so far, so despite all my raging encouragement, I was just glad to be able to support a team that had gotten into the finals in the first place. And anyway, final matches were always dramatic, always turned out the biggest crowds, so this was huge already for the Cheetahs. It was gonna be a fun time, no matter the outcome!

I was just dragging myself in home from work when I was greeted suddenly by something warm and feathery throwing itself into my face.

"Christ on a–! RAVI!" I yelled in irritation, shoving the bloody owl away from me so that I could even close the door. He swooped around, hooting manically, and that was when I noticed the huge piles of mail, scattered across the hallway floor. "Oh, so NOW you decide to turn up again, huh?" I complained. "Honestly, what is wrong with you?"

Ravi screeched and crash-landed in the kitchen sink.

"Bloody bird …" I grumbled, tossing my bag and leaning to gather up the mail.

Thankfully, it didn't look like there was much that I'd missed this time, although I winced when I noticed my mother's handwriting on a couple of notes. I'd gotten a few from her own owl ever since I'd bailed on that family dinner she'd insisted that I come to, and the latest ones were apparently no happier with me than before:

 _THAT IS IT, YOUNG MAN_.

 _I don't care what you've got going on. I don't care what you're doing, whether you're busy, or whether you're even home. If you're not, I'm camping out in your flat until you return because I am sick of you ignoring me! I am coming over tonight and I WILL talk to you!_

 _Fred, honey, I love you. But you are in a LOT of trouble._

 _Mum. X_

I swore, glancing at the date of the owl in my hands, realising that it was today she had written it. Well, at least I hadn't come home to find my mother sleeping on my sofa because not only would I not put that past her, I'd have a hell of a hard time explaining why Emma was also at my place. I glanced at my watch, before dashing for the kitchen and giving Ravi an accusatory look.

"Is this what you wanted, huh?! Are you happy now?"

He drunkenly waved a wing at me.

I just scoffed in disgust, turning away from my stupid owl. A quick yelling of Emma's name told me that she apparently wasn't home yet, which might at least thankfully prevent some awkward questions. In fact, I found a note from her stuck on the fridge:

 _Hey, Fred –_

 _I'm just with Charmaine, wanted to see her for a bit. I might be back tonight, I might stay with her, I'm not sure yet. Don't wait up, if I'm not back I'll see ya in the morning._

 _(Btw, Ravi turned up again with his usual mail haul! It was literally just after you left for work, but I figured I'd let you sort through it when you got home!)_

 _Xxx_

 _Princess._

Gee, thanks Emma.

I guess all I could do was wait for my mother to come and chew my head off. I warily sat down at my kitchen table, half-heartedly sorting through the pile of mail. I noticed to my slight surprise that there were some things addressed to Emma mixed in there. I mean, it made sense since I didn't think she actually owned a personal owl, just the Terry family owl, but people apparently also knew to send her shit here now instead of to her own flat. Which, uh … meant something, I'm sure.

I was just staring at one of the owls addressed to Emma from one of her brothers, when my mother turned up.

"Ohhhhh, hey!" I called out without looking up when I heard the whoosh of the fireplace.

Angelina Weasley – AKA, my mother – found me in the kitchen, fake stumbling in shock when she saw me.

"Is that – no – it can't be–" she gasped mockingly, clutching at her chest.

"Mum, c'mon, I'm obviously not dead," I rolled my eyes.

"For all I knew, you could've been!" Mum scolded, moving forward. I complained loudly from my chair as Mum hugged my shoulders tightly. "For Merlin's sake, Fred! I didn't raise you like this."

"I didn't realise you were the dramatic one in this family," I said, voice muffled against her arm.

Mum pulled back to shoot me a look and I wilted slightly. Look, no matter how old you get, there's something about your parents that just makes you want to haul your arse in line, and my mother was no exception. She was quite literally Wonder Woman. She was the straight-laced mind who reigned in the more ridiculous joke shop ideas Dad came up with and also somehow managed to keep her children from killing each other at the same time. Or well, that last part had been true up until this point. I, of course, loved my mum and I didn't want to disappoint her, except I knew that I had already gone and done that. So who else could I be apart from the wayward, delinquent son?

She sat down next to me as I braced myself for whatever was going to be flung my way. Angelina Weasley took no prisoners. "So!" she said in a huff. "Are you going to explain why you have been ignoring me the last, oh, _several weeks_?"

"Well, for starters," I began, hastily. "you can blame most of it on my crazy owl!"

I pointed to Ravi, who was still just chillin' in the kitchen sink.

Mum glanced over in concern. "Is he ok?" she asked.

"Oh, he's swell," I said. "Honestly, thank you for giving me a demon bird for my 11th birthday. I mean, really, this is all your fault if you think about it, since I can't help the fact that he decides to fuck off every now and then and do his own thing and won't deliver my mail for days at a time!"

" _Fred_ ," Mum growled.

"Right," I muttered. "Uh … look. Mum, I'm sorry. I know you wanted me to come to dinner with you guys that one time and I didn't. I honestly had something else on–"

"Oh, bullshit," Mum said bluntly. "You just didn't want to see your sister."

Apparently, she knows more than I'd thought.

"What has Roxanne told you?" I sighed.

"That you had a fight," Mum said without hesitation. "She complained a lot. Seems you both owe each other some apologies."

"Doesn't it ever bother you, though?" I asked in annoyance. "She never takes anything seriously! That ex of hers could have killed her, but she didn't even care about that, she never considers the consequences or thinks about what she's doing!"

"Hmm," Mum mused. "Sounds like someone else I know."

I scoffed at her pointed look. " _Muuuum_ ," I protested.

"Oh, no!" she waggled a finger at me. "You can complain all you like, but I know for a fact that my children are not all that different from each other."

I might have argued some more, but Mum had brought me up short. She was kind of right, wasn't she? Roxanne and I weren't all that different at the end of the day. We were both rather impulsive. We both didn't give many shits about who we slept with. We were both strong-willed and confident and the only difference seemed to be in how we labelled the relationships in our lives. While Roxanne was happy falling in and out of love with every person she had ever been with, I rather violently rejected the concept altogether. I'd never had such issues with my sister until recently.

Since when had I become that person who judged her on her life choices when I was hardly any different?

"Look," I said. "I promise I'll talk to Roxie sometime, really. Is that all you're here for? Can I go now?"

"HA, you're funny," Mum pulled out her wand and flicked it at the kettle across the kitchen, causing it to whistle. "Settle in, Mister, I'm here for the long haul."

"Jesus Christ …" I moaned.

"Don't you Jesus Christ me!" Mum said at once.

She made coffee for us both (I knew I got the coffee love from somewhere) so I guess there really was no escaping her. Apparently avoiding Roxanne wasn't her only issue. "I just never hear from you anymore," Mum said, probably playing up the hurt voice to tug on the heartstrings, only it was unfortunately working. "I don't know how you are, or what's happening in your life. You never answer me when I ask. What if something happened and I couldn't get hold of you?"

"Nothing _has_ happened–"

"Not the point, and you know it," Mum thundered. "Your father and I have wanted to catch up with you for weeks now, Fred."

"You mentioned in one of your owls," I said. "Well, what? What do you want from me?"

"Hey, I am not above still taking stars off your chart!"

"Aw, Mum," I rolled my eyes. "You don't still have those, do you?"

"Of course I do!" she said. The star charts were of course a form of discipline that Mum and Dad had used to keep us unruly kids under control when we were in our youth. Less stars meant less cool things. I should have known Mum would have kept some of the old charts, Mum held onto anything nostalgic. "I could get you to do anything with those stars, I hope you remember."

"Yeah, well, threaten to take away 10 year old me's toys because I lost too many stars and that'll happen," I grumbled. "I'm not still 10, I hope you realise!"

"If you still act 10, I'm doing it," Mum said determinedly. "Fred. You need to understand, ok? I'm not nagging you, I'm not trying to be nosy and always know what you're doing. I'm just a mother. I want to know that you're safe. You have a dangerous job, I need to know that you're not dead in a ditch somewhere. I don't need constant updates, but an owl every now and then? I expect that, at the very least. And _don't_ argue," she added, as I'd opened my mouth to do just that.

I kind of sulked for a moment as Mum elegantly sipped on her coffee. I was definitely glad Emma wasn't here to see this. Mum had a point. It was stupid of me to ignore my family, no matter how crazy or annoying they might be, and Mum knew exactly how to sit in silence so that I would be forced to stew in the guilt for a bit. Blimey, she really had gotten good at raising Roxanne and me.

"Fine," I muttered, just like I'm sure she knew I eventually would. "Let's catch up then. My life is the same, I'm fighting with my sister, that's it! How are you, Mum?"

Mum just snorted. "That's not an answer, and you know it. Let's start small. Tell me about this Emma girl?"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Nope.

"Hell, Mum, you said you were gonna start small."

"The family talks, mate," Mum just shrugged, a fucking smirk on her face now.

"YA, ok," I scoffed at her. "Like I'm gonna be tellin' ya anything."

"Well I suppose I could, of course, ask anyone else and get the details," Mum said, innocently. "No doubt it would be a highly skewed version of events, rather unfortunately. Or … you could set the record straight and tell me yourself. I mean, it's your call."

I glared.

"Mum, you're ruthless."

"Your father married me for a reason," Mum said, smugly. "So what will it be?"

"There's nothing to tell!" I protested. "Emma's just … she's … I, uh …"

I floundered because, mate. There really was no way to start explaining, was there? Mum just sat there looking at me expectedly and as hard as it was to admit anything to Emma's mother, it was suddenly a million times worse trying to talk to my own mum about it! I couldn't very well start at the beginning, but I had no idea where to begin at all in that case, what details to give, how to explain any of it. Mum obviously had some kind of a clue already, but she was right, I didn't want her going around knowing only Roxanne's version of events, because no doubt my sister would make it sound like we were going to elope off any day now or something else as equally ridiculous!

Just keep it simple. Stick to facts.

Set the record straight, Fred.

"We … we met a couple years ago."

"There's a start," Mum mentioned.

"We're friends," I said, slightly more confidently. "We, erm … it's also kind of a thing. Oh my god, why am I saying this?"

"You're doing well! Keep going."

Mum clearly knew me too well. I ended up blurting out as fast as my mouth could get around the words, "Look, I genuinely really like this girl, she's cool, and she doesn't think I'm a creepy nut-job for some reason, that's really all there is! Can I PLEASE stop talking about it now?"

"Fred," Mum said, gently. "You understand that your life is yours, right? I can tell you off and be annoyed at you, but I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. I know you've never been in a relationship before, and you don't have to be now just to please me or your dad or anyone else–"

"I'M NOT, holy crap," I cried. "Mum, seriously!"

"Ok! Ok, I just had to make sure," she insisted. "When I heard, you have to admit, it's a little out of character for you."

"Mum, I can promise you that all my choices are my own," I said firmly. "Blimey, Mrs Terry wasn't ever this bad …"

"Wait, who?" Mum asked in a tone that suspected she definitely already knew who.

Oh, fuck.

"Uh … Rebecca Terry."

"Who is …?"

I heaved a sigh. "You know who."

"YOU'VE MET THIS GIRL'S MOTHER?" Mum's eyes went wide.

"Way to remain chill," I noted.

"FRED," Mum closed her eyes for a moment. "My sweet, sweet son. I love you, but oh my god."

"That seems to be what I get from most people, these days."

Mum just laughed, shaking her head. "You've met her mother!" she repeated, like this was the most astonishing news of all. "You must really like this girl!"

"I mean, she's not that bad …"

"Dinner," Mum insisted. "Like you were supposed to in the first place. It's non-negotiable, mate, but tell you what, I'll let you bring Emma with you. For moral support or whatever else you might want to call it."

"HA. Good one."

"I mean it!"

"Look, I'll come to dinner, ok?" I said exasperatedly. "But I'm not bringing Emma! For god's sake …"

"Why the hell not?"

Because it wasn't hearts and flowers and everything that she was imagining! Blimey, Mum. We took things one day at a time, we didn't acknowledge what was happening, we just enjoyed each other the best we still could while dealing with our own personal flaws. We don't go to dinners with parents. We don't talk about the future. We …

Might, eventually.

When you have a woman in your bed every night, when you wake up and see her face and grin, when you come home and realise she isn't there and you're disappointed, when she makes fun of your obsessive need to clean and steals back umbrella stands with you, when she kicks you in her sleep or you accidentally inhale her hair when she hugs you, when she'll rest her head against you when watching a film, call you out on your bullshit or dress in a purposefully sexy dress just to wind you up, when she kisses you goodbye sometimes and can steal your breath away with a single look, when she has to stand on her tip toes to reach your face and you don't care, when she can have you crying out her name one second and in the next, make you want to sweetly hold hands, when against all your natural instincts she makes you want to set your own head on fire … you might want to reconsider whether you're eventually gonna talk about the future with her.

It's gonna happen.

I don't know when I'll ever get up the nerve to actually do it, but the 'if' was gone from the equation now. Getting to this point was still terrifying, but if I could make it this far and still be alive, then that had to be saying something! And what was left for there to be scared of, anyway? The terror of someone knowing the ins and outs of you, knowing everything, seeing you on your best and worst days, at your most vulnerable, most emotional? Emma already knew. We'd discovered each other in stops and starts, first through sex, then through awkward friendship, then through finally putting those two things together, but maybe that was just how we rolled? Instead of doing the typical thing and trying to figure out all that stuff at once, we just separated it until we could put it together.

I had never been interested in relationships and love. In a way, I still wasn't. It was a hassle, it was easier not to, and I knew I was perfectly happy without those things. I didn't want them or need them and that was a totally fine way to be. But baby-me never stopped to consider what I might do if I met someone one day who suddenly _did_ make me want all those things. I never told myself that feeling that way was ok as well. Maybe if I had, this might have all turned out differently, but what the hell, we were at this point now. I was so fucking in love with Emma that it was unreal, and it'd taken a long time, but yeah …

"Fine," I grumbled. "I'll bring her to dinner."

Mum laughed at what was probably the look on my face. "I think I know that expression."

"You don't know me."

"Honey, I made you," Mum smirked. "Don't test me. Just keep trying, keep doing you and come to dinner. Ok?"

"Ok," I answered weakly.

"Good," Mum put her nearly empty mug of coffee down on the table. "I guess I can live with that explanation, even if it is lacking a few key details. There's more your father and I want to talk to you about, but it can wait until we've got both you and Roxie together, it'll be easier."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing bad," Mum said. "Look, I promise we'll talk more later. But you have to come. I'll drag you there myself if I have to."

"I don't doubt it," I said.

* * *

"Wait, your mum ambushed you and I missed it completely?" Emma complained.

We apparently have our best conversations in the shower. She hadn't stayed with Charmaine in the end, although had crawled into bed at some ungodly hour in the morning so that when the alarm went off, she did nothing but moan and disappear further under the blankets. Enticing her into the shower with me was literally the only way to get her out of bed sometimes, although I don't ever hold out hope on shower sex. You ever tried it? That shit is slippery as fuck, mate, I'd rather be clean than dead!

But apparently we found it easier to speak when we were busy taking turns under the water, washing hair and bodies quickly to get ready for the day. Emma had her eyes closed as she spoke, rinsing her curls, as I scrubbed and tried not to remember too much about the first ever shower we took together.

"Yeah, and I'm sorry, but I think I was somehow conned into bringing you to dinner sometime," I mentioned.

Emma nearly choked on the shower water. " _With your parents?_ "

"Yeah, my mother is kind of terrifying!"

"She is clearly some kind of wizard genius if she managed to get you to agree to that," she grinned. "I love her already."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Are you implying that you _want_ to meet my mother?"

"You've met mine!" Emma said, brushing water back from her eyes.

"Oh, yes, wouldn't be fair," I muttered. "Look, my dear Princess, Mum is nuts, you really don't want to be meeting her."

"Your reluctance only fuels the desire, I hope you realise."

"Can't we just leave some things to the imagination?"

Emma gave me a pointed look across the shower. Ok, so we literally had nothing left to the imagination between us, but that wasn't the same and she knew it.

"I hope you realise that all this arguing is moot point anyway, seeing as she made you promise," Emma said.

"Don't remind me."

"Bonehead, I live to remind you," Emma smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, get out of my way," I muttered, grabbing her arms to shove her out from under the spray. Emma just laughed as I started washing off soap, changing the subject. "Hey, so uh, how's Charmaine then?"

"Oh, she's all good," Emma thankfully let the topic switch. "She asked me over to get my help confirming some building gossip, actually. You don't happen to remember the Booth kids, do you? Ruby, Tyler, Darren and Casey?"

"They were the ones in foster care, right?" I asked.

"Yeah," Emma said, searching the shower rack for something. "Apparently, Ruby tried to run away again. The latest gossip is that all the kids are goin' back into the children's home because their current foster mum isn't having them anymore."

"They won't be living in your building anymore?" I asked. "What, noooo!"

"I know, it sucks!" Emma whined. "'course, we've got absolutely no details, it's all just rumours and gossip, but I loved those kids!"

"Ruby was cool," I said. I gestured vaguely to Emma that she could come under the water again, but she shook her head, holding up a razor.

"Don't mind me," she said casually, before adding, "but yeah, I was hoping that I'd be able to talk to them before they left, but Debbie wouldn't let me."

"You know, I think I caught Ruby trying to run away, once," I realised.

"Seriously?" Emma glanced up from where she was currently trying to balance on one foot, the other leg braced against the shower wall. "When?"

"Back when you were refusing to talk to me and I would bang on your door from dawn to dusk," I said. "I ran into her and we talked a little before I took her back home. She's a good kid."

"All of them are," Emma sighed, bumping me slightly as she slathered soap all over her leg. "I'll never get to see 'em again, now."

"Hey," I suddenly glanced down at her, a thought in my head. "Ruby and her siblings … they loved the Chelsea Cheetahs, right?"

"Well, yeah, they all adored Quidditch …"

"I promised Ruby that I would try and swing it so that she could meet James someday," I said. "What if … the team's super popular right now, I bet I could convince James to get the team to hit up the children's home that they're in?"

Emma laughed. "Oh my god, Fred. You do that, you'd be considered a saint."

"Nah, you can bet there will still be some loser people in the _Daily Prophet_ response section claiming I'm sabotaging the Cheetahs chances at winning by distracting them with good will so close to the final match."

"I don't know if you'd even be able to make it happen," Emma said. "but Merlin, I'm sure those kids would deserve it – ahhhh, SHIT!"

She suddenly yelped as her foot slipped. There was a _bang_ and my arms shot out at once, catching her quickly before she could crash her head into anything. Heart slamming in my throat, I cried, "For god's sake, Emma! Are you trying to kill me?"

"Blimey – oh, hey! Good catch!" Emma said, brightly.

"Good catch?" I grumbled as I heaved her back upright, snatching the razor out of her hands. "You're lucky I was here with you! You're gonna slash your skin open one of these days. Why the hell do you even still use this thing?" I added, holding up the offending razor in distaste.

"I'm not comfortable using magic!" Emma said, snatching it back.

"So you'd rather put a literal sharp blade to your skin, than just using a Hair-Removal Charm?"

"You'd think you'd never seen this before," she snorted, gesturing down at the mark on her leg.

The burn scarred a small portion of skin on her upper right thigh. So acquainted with Emma's body at this point, I guess I barely noticed it anymore. I knew when I'd first seen it though, and I remembered thinking that I didn't want to ask, but she'd caught my gaze and hastily explained, "Hot wax. I was like, thirteen. Don't mix magic into it." It was just a small something about her, something that not many people would know about and I guess, despite that she was statistically more likely to break her neck in the shower now, I liked that scar.

"I'd kiss you if I weren't afraid you'd fall over again," I said.

"I'd kiss you back, but we don't have time for that shit," Emma grinned.

* * *

The day carried on like normal, but the thought of Ruby and the idea I'd gotten into my head refused to leave me. The more hours that went by, the more I grew determined to try and make it happen somehow. If any kid deserved to meet their hero, it was her, right? Besides, I have connections! I have access to the legal system, I could totally somehow make it work out, right? Not to mention that the Magical Ministry of Social Development offices were literally in the building next door to the Bail Enforcement Office. It was totally fate, right?

Apparently, the receptionists at the office didn't seem to think so. Turns out, you _can't_ just charm your way into wherever you want, even when you are ridiculously good-looking like I am! I know, who would have thought?

"Are you _sure_ you can't just let me look someone up, real quick?" I pleaded with the sixth receptionist in the building that I'd tried. "It's in regards to a case, I need that access–"

"I'm sorry, didn't you say that you were a Bail Agent, Mr Weasley?" the sceptical man asked me from behind his glasses.

"Well, uh–"

"Unless you show me a warrant for someone's arrest," he pointed out. "I'm not giving you access."

"Injustice!" I cried. "I just want to make a girl's dreams come true, is that too much to ask?"

"Don't make me call security."

"No, wait – WAIT–" I practically begged, flinging out a hand, as if that might stop him from slamming the intercom button. "Look, I'm not trying to find out sensitive information or anything, I swear. Her name is Ruby Booth, and I just want to talk to either her social worker, or someone from the children's home that she's in. Please, can you just give me a name?"

The receptionist eyed me a moment. "Look, sir, I'm sorry but we withhold this information for a reason. We're protecting the identities of the young people we work with–"

"Oh, fine!" I cried, turning my back dramatically and walking away. "Just ruin the lives of innocent kids, it's all good–"

"Excuse me, sir?"

A woman caught my attention as I was grumbling and storming back across the lobby. She looked polished, professional, definitely worked here in some capacity. Her expression was a bit severe, but I noticed a stuffed rabbit poking out the top of her handbag. "Um, yes?" I asked.

"Did I hear you asking about someone called Ruby Booth?"

"Uhhh …" I began, unsure of how much to give away. "I guess, yeah."

"How do you know her?" the woman demanded. "I'm her social worker."

"Oh my god!" I blurted out. "Holy shit, you're who I want to talk to! My name's Agent Fred Weasley, I work in the building next door–"

"Insurance?" the woman raised an eyebrow.

"Specifically Bail Enforcement, but don't worry, that's nothing to do with Ruby," I hastily explained. "I met her when she was living with her foster mum, Debbie? I know someone who lives in the same building, we played Quidditch with the kids sometimes."

The social worker gave me a hard look, but apparently I was hitting a curious nerve somewhere inside her. Eventually, she sighed and said,

"Ok, I'll bite. Come to my office, and I'll hear you out."

So it turns out that social worker, Lauren Jones, was the living embodiment of a grizzly bear. I knew that none of what I was suggesting would be possible without her cooperation so I rambled incoherently for what felt like ages about my grand idea. Amazingly, she didn't throw me out of her office after five seconds.

"You're telling me," she said, leaning over her desk with a stern look. "that you know the Chelsea Cheetahs Quidditch team?"

"Well, I know like, one of them, but yeah," I nodded enthusiastically. "James Potter, he's my cousin!"

Lauren actually snorted. "Ok, I've heard of him, all right."

"So you believe me?"

The tone that came out of Lauren's mouth wasn't quite enough to be patronising, although it was certainly clear that she found my enthusiasm lacking a few key elements. "It's a great idea, really, it is," she said. "The reality of it might be a different story, however. I could make a formal request to the team manager, but–"

"He'd say yes!" I blurted out at once. "James would totally get him to say yes!"

"You can see why I'm reluctant," she deadpanned.

"Ooh, Lauren, you've got some sass in you after all," I dug in. She glared with the strength of a thousand suns and I hastily tacked on, "Uhhhh … sorry."

" _Look_ ," Lauren sighed. "I'm not guaranteeing anything, but I am going to give you my contact information. Give it to the team manager and ask him to get in touch. If you can actually manage to get him to go for it, I'll make sure that you can be there to surprise the kids. Use my information to stalk me in anyway, and I'm calling the bloody Aurors. We have a deal?"

"We've got a deal!" I eagerly shook her hand over her desk.

See, in the end, convincing James was easy. I mean, he has a kid of his own, the idiot's gone totally soft. I think he nearly sobbed at the thought when I first suggested him my idea. James convincing his team manager was going to be harder, however, since Jack Malvolio wasn't exactly known for being the warmest and fuzziest of blokes. It all worked out in our favour though, since apparently he couldn't have cared less about surprising the kids, but DID care an awful lot about what the press might say if they ever found out that he had turned down an opportunity to visit a home for foster children (as James was happy to point out).

I don't think Lauren Jones ever expected that owl.

Two days before the final match, Fulham Children's Home was going to be suddenly overrun by star Quidditch players.

Apparently Ruby was already suspicious as hell, since all the children had been told that the home would be having some visitors, but hadn't explained exactly who. After been introduced to one of the home managers, I was allowed to talk to Ruby and do the lead up.

"FRED!" she shrieked when I walked in.

"Hey, Ruby! You remember me," I grinned, moving to ruffle her scruffy, tawny hair.

"What're you doing here?" she asked. "Are you the visitor who was supposed to come today?"

"Eh, sort of," I shrugged. "I kinda brought some friends with me, though. You guys don't mind some others coming, do you?" I called around the wide, colourful room in general, and the other children giggled a little nervously at the sight of the strange man who'd just casually waltzed into their afternoon. Lauren was rolling her eyes in the corner, but the woman adored me really by this point, I'm sure. Ruby tugged hard at my sleeve, demanding,

"Who'd you bring? Is Emma here? What's going on–?"

"Hey, James?" I yelled at the door.

It hadn't been Emma, but I don't think Ruby minded. It was equally hilarious and touching to watch as the eleven-year-old's eyes widened in shock as James entered the room, his teammates right behind him. He was waving a little nervously, even though the man probably could have just stood there and the room would still burst into loud screaming. I think my eardrums burst a little as the kids yelled, little feet pounding the wooden floors as they converged on the team.

But Ruby? She just stood next to me and cried.

"Oh, fuck," I bent down to her level before wincing. "I mean – don't tell Lauren I said that – Ruby, are you ok?"

"It's – it's James Potter," she sobbed.

I laughed. "Yeah, I know, I told you I knew him."

" _It's James Potter_ ," Ruby looked at me in awe, rubbing her eyes. "Fred, I love you."

"Well, hey now …" I shoved her shoulder a little. "Don't get all mushy on me, Ruby."

But she wasn't even listening now. Ruby moved to practically fling herself into the middle of the melee and James looked a little amazed when she threw her arms around his waist. Hell, I don't think some of these kids had ever really been properly hugged before. James seemed to know not to let go until Ruby did and soon, the afternoon at the children's home had gotten about a million times more exciting for the inhabitants. As everyone made to move into the back garden, one of James' teammates suggested they play a game with the kids. In amongst the cheers and mad rush of eager children and broomsticks flying everywhere, James managed to sidle up to me outside in the grass.

"Mate," he shook his head. "I can't believe I'm doing something like this, it's crazy."

"Aw, shut up and just enjoy it," I shrugged. "Thanks for hugging Ruby, by the way."

"She's the one you did this all for, right?"

"And the other kids," I said. "but essentially, yeah."

James snorted with laughter. "You claim to be terrible with children, Fred, but Merlin forbid that if Libby and I ever die, you can have Clara."

"I thought Al and Bea were her godparents?" I scoffed.

"They are, you can be honorary," James nudged my shoulder with his. "Seriously. You did a good thing."

Ruby came running up to us then, her eyes alight and a battered old broom in her hands. "James! Fred! Are you gonna come play?"

"Aw, I don't have a broom, but James will," I shoved him forward.

"Oh, Casey!" Ruby suddenly got distracted by another one of the children. She dropped her broom to bend down and haul what looked like a small two year old into her arms. She held her with all the strength and skill of an eleven-year-old, but Casey didn't seem to mind. "This is my sister! Casey, see this? This is James Potter, he's the best Beater in the wooooorld!"

I ended up watching the children's Quidditch game standing next to Lauren. Several other staff members at the home were all chatting happily as they cheered the kids on, though Lauren was quiet and contemplative. At least, I hadn't had to interact with Sebastian Fucking Cortez this time! Nope, we seemed to have come to an agreement to resolutely ignore one another, which worked for me. I saw him purposefully fumble a pass so that one of the kids could catch the Quaffle they'd brought, and found myself snorting as the word _tosser_ still somehow floated through my head. No, maybe I'll never like that bloke, but hey, at least I could tolerate his presence now!

"Hey, thanks again for hearing me out and letting me organise this," I mentioned lightly to Lauren.

The social worker grunted in response, but then she seemed to soften a little, turning to face me. She held out a hand and said, "It was no problem at all."

I shook it happily. She made to turn away, but I quickly added, "Actually, hey – erm," I deliberated slightly as she glanced at me again. "I kind of had a question. I was wondering, how exactly do you guys try and find families for these kids?"

"Asking for a friend?" Lauren raised an eyebrow.

"You made a joke! Oh, Lauren, you are too funny," She shot me a look. "I mean, I uh, didn't mean that."

"It's a long process," she sighed. "How much time do you have?"

"Maybe just a quick low-down, then."

"Well, basically," Thankfully, she was apparently willing to humour me. "we have a database of potential families approved for adoption. We try and find suitable matches for the children in our cases. The four Booth children want to stay together, which has unfortunately made it hard finding them a family."

"Ok … so if I told you that I happen to know of a married couple who are desperately trying to adopt living here in London," I mused. "and that I know they'd probably take all four kids in a heartbeat, would you be interested in being introduced?"

Lauren eyed me a moment. I figured it was a stupid long-shot, but what do we ever have to lose these days? I waited for Lauren to tell me it was more difficult than that, or that it simply wasn't possible, but that was when she looked me in the eye and said,

"Write down their names for me, and maybe I'll get in contact with their social worker sometime."

* * *

"You're kidding?!" Emma cried.

"No, no, I'm fuckin' serious!" I yelled in equal excitement. "The lady literally goes 'I'll look into it'! Can you believe–? HOLY SHIIIIIT!" I broke off in a yell as a collision happened mid-air out on the pitch.

Look, so far, the Cheetahs vs Wasps league final had been Wild™, guys.

" _WHOOOOOA_ , everyone just saw that, right?" the slightly dazed commentator was yelling as the entire stadium cringed. "Massive physical block there by the Wasp Chasers! I'm not sure the refs gonna allow that, it's a bit of a judgement call – THAT'S THE WHISTLE, YES, THEY'RE CALLING IT!"

"Oh my god!" Emma had her hands in her hair.

"How do I ever watch these things?" Libby agreed from her place next to her.

As I've mentioned, the entire goddamn Weasley family was of course here in these stands at least somewhere, if not all completely together in the one spot. A majority of my cousins were around us though, along with many other friends, significant others and offspring. Libby had Clara in some kind of baby-holder contraption that allowed the Tiny Human to kick her legs and watch the game in what was no doubt utter bemusement. Libby had fretted a little that she was terrible for bringing a nine-month-old to a Quidditch match, but Clara was hardly the only baby here. I'd for sure seen several veeeery young kids on the journey up into the stands, and besides, stick a charm over Clara's ears to block out a majority of the noise, and she was fine! The girl had to watch her dad win the league for the first time, after all.

The match was starting to hit an hour since kick-off, and it had seen all kinds of ridiculousness so far. Sure, you always get the brutal tackles, the fouls and the deliberate injuries designed to knock out players, but this game was getting outrageous. At one point, a Cheetahs player had taken off their shoes mid-air and thrown them at the Keeper's head. During another intense scuffle, a Wasps Chaser managed to seize the Quaffle by first flashing everyone. Nothing about this match had been relatively normal, and I was quite frankly loving it!

"Ohhhh, please tell me that's not Sebastian who just got hit," Emma winced, watching the carnage with wide eyes.

"Shhh," I blindly slapped a hand over her face, intending on covering her mouth. "we don't speak of That One."

"Fuck off," Emma slapped my hand away with a laugh. "Go back to what you were sayin' before, you honestly reckon Al and Bea will be able to adopt the Booth kids?"

"I'm pretty sure it's still a long-shot, but Lauren said she'd get in contact some time, and we're like, homies now, so I know my girl won't let me down."

"God, can you imagine?" Emma grinned, eyes still watching the match. "We'd have Ruby as a niece!"

Oh, trust me, I WAS imagining. In fact, I was imagining so hard that it was suddenly years from now inside my head. I was in a future where Ruby and her brothers and sister were Potter's, where Clara got to grow up alongside some older cousins. A future where Al and Bea got to be the parents they deserved and apparently, Emma was still in my life. _Our niece._ We already had one, but one day we might have more. We were an aunt and uncle to someone. It was a future I'd … I'd never really thought about before.

I turned and caught Emma's eye. We both hastily went back to screaming at the match.

I tried not to let my thoughts stray that much. My heart was already pounding from the adrenaline of the game, I didn't need any more panic sending it straight into cardiac arrest. Honestly, I was happy with the way things were right now! Me and Emma, it was good. It was more than I ever could have hoped for and eventually someday, we'd be brave enough to have that conversation without throwing up or freaking out. I guess there were only some parts of that imaginary future that I wasn't so sure about, and one of them was currently ignoring me as she sat in the row in front of us.

My sister had greeted Emma earlier with a warm hug and laughter, only to turn around and give me a big, hearty _fuck you_ in contrast. Having to stare at the back of her damn head every time she stood up to cheer didn't help. Look, I hate my sister as much as the next person hates any of their siblings, but I also loved her just as much. WOOO, FRED, I know, you're admitting you love Roxanne?! OUTRAGEOUS.

Yeah, well, fuck you to you guys as well. Of course I bloody loved my sister. The only problem was that instead of not caring that she currently hated my guts, lately it was starting to hurt. For all her faults, Roxanne was the one who always knew what was going on. As much as I couldn't stand it when she invited herself into my problems, she at least always had a solution for me, whether I listened to it or not. We both had some apologies to make, but like always, I didn't want to be the first to admit it.

"That bloody Keeper!" Libby was saying furiously. "I swear they're just mad about the whole shoe thing."

"I'd be pissed too if someone threw their shoes at my head," Emma pointed out.

"Stop being reasonable," Libby laughed, holding Clara's teeny hands in front of her.

"How many points do we need to win by, again?"

"160," Libby said. "Trust me, James has said it enough times."

"We're 100 points ahead already!" I called out. "We could totally do it!"

"I thought you weren't pinning your hopes on this match?" Libby tossed back at me.

"I changed my mind, GO CHEETAHS!"

James always used to be a bit of a show-off back when he played in school. He wasn't much better these days, but he had his fuckin' game face on out there tonight! Emma grabbed my arm as we watched, her fingers clenching as James quickly swung around an intercepting Bludger, chasing it instead back to where he could aim a good hit. The resulting _smack_ echoed throughout the stadium.

"Oh, shit, Rodgers is goin' after him now!" Emma cried, pointing out the Wasps Beater. "C'MON, JAMES!"

He did it. James somehow managed to evade the other Beater viciously targeting him, slamming the Bludger back at him instead. Rodgers' _oh, crap_ face was blown up on one of the big screens scattered around the stadium and we all burst into cheers. Suddenly, a load of black curly hair was in my way for about the billionth time and I cut off my clapping to groan in exasperation.

" _Would you seriously get out of my way?_ " I yelled at Roxanne.

"No!" Roxanne spat back at me, turning so that I could get the full intensity of her glare. "I've already told you, I'm not swapping seats just because you're being a whiney pissbaby! Fucking deal with it, bro."

"… I'm going to strangle her soon, I can feel it," I huffed in my seat.

But Emma was thumping me on the shoulder. " _Pissbaby_."

"OW," I complained.

"You need to talk to your sister," she just casually said, before reacting to a particularly good catch out on the pitch, "WHOA!"

"Look, I _know_ that I need to talk to her, ok?" I said. "I promise, I will!"

"See, you say that a lot but never actually do anything," Emma pointed out.

"We're having dinner with my parents, Merlin helps us, I'll talk to her then."

"No, you won't," Emma snorted, looking at me fondly. "You'll dither for ages and eventually make some excuse to leave."

"What is this nonsense? I thought we'd agreed to always back each other up, here!"

Emma just leaned over, wrapping an arm around me. Her hands gripped my shoulders as she grinned, pressing a kiss to the side of my head before saying, "Fred, I might share your bed, but never forget that you are also my arsehole."

I just scoffed at her words, but they sort of lit up something inside. Before I could examine it too closely, the entire stadium suddenly burst into a frenzy. The screams and shouts drowned out anything that might've been said as apparently, the Wasps Seeker had gone into a dive. "NOOOOO!" Libby cried.

"We still need 7 more goals to be ahead!" Emma yelled.

"Where's Billie?!"

"Other end – shit, shit–"

I couldn't see the speck of gold, but apparently the Wasps Seeker certainly could. The Chasers were still furiously battling it out over the Quaffle as I watched on tenterhooks, everyone around us leaping to their feet. Clara seemed to be babbling away, completely none the wiser, while her mother yelled at James from across the pitch, as if he might magically hear her. James was apparently on it already, though, practically ploughing straight through the entire play to intercept. I noticed the other Cheetahs Beater, Ollie Smith, signalling something to James across the air, and they both suddenly swung in to knock the Wasps Seeker off course.

Emma was still hanging off me as we screamed gleefully. I actually almost sat down, but that was when (fucking) Sebastian scored again and it all went a little crazy from there. The Chasers lived to their name, as that elusive 160 points ahead mark crept closer over the next twenty rage-inducing minutes. I think Rose a couple of rows over was going to burst a blood vessel soon. "Hey, Lib!" I called over. "Tell Rosie over there that we haven't won just yet!"

"I HEARD THAT, DICKHEAD!"

I just laughed, pulling the finger at my cousin. You know, as sceptical as I'd been about all this, we might actually have a chance at winning!

"You know, I always questioned Ruby's choice of James being her favourite out the entire team," I mused. "but I gotta give the girl some credit. James is actually bloody good."

"You say that like you're surprised," Emma snorted. "I remember when he played in school!"

"There's no way you had any idea who we were in school," I accused.

"I'm literally only a year older than you, remember?" Emma shoved me. "Might've been a different house, but everyone knew who the Quidditch players were. James was good, even then!"

"Yeah," I grinned. "I s'pose I'm glad he didn't just stick with pitch construction–"

That was when Billie suddenly threw herself off course. Naturally, everyone roared in outrage, screaming about what the hell she was doing, but apparently her gut was telling her something and her flying was phenomenal enough to pull it off. She'd been chasing down the Wasps Seeker, but she suddenly pulled up and away for what appeared to be no reason.

Until we all noticed the Snitch in her hand.

"THERE'S THE WHISTLE! IT'S HAPPENED!" the commentator was shrieking. "THE MATCH IS OVER, THE CHELSEA CHEETAHS HAVE WON, 290 POINTS TO 120! THAT MEANS THEY'VE OFFICIALLY WON THE LEAGUE CHAMPIONSHIPS, GUYS! THE CHEETAHS DID IT!"

The stadium was in utter tears. Libby was practically dancing with Clara, cuddling her and saying, "Daddy won! You're daddy won!" Emma slammed into me and I laughed as she screamed in my ear,

"BITCH, HE WON!"

"FUCK YEAH, HE DID–" I curled a hand around the back of her head and didn't care that we were in front of literally almost everyone we knew. I crushed her lips to mine even as Emma was still laughing. It was triumphant, happy, and yeah, I had a lot of things I needed to fix at some point, a lot of things to work out, this was something that wasn't broken, at least.

We'd always have this.

* * *

"I'm sorry, do you even work here?" my sister's voice asked sceptically.

I ground to a halt, second-guessing my every thought that had somehow talked me into coming here.

"Roxie …" I sighed.

I guess I'd come to the joke shop to try and talk to her in the first place, but now that I was here, I barely knew where to begin. Sooooo, how's about that Cheetahs win, huh? Yeah, that was gonna go down well after weeks of ignoring each other. But I don't know, Emma was right. If I didn't do this now, I was only going to keep making excuses and the next thing I'd know, I'd have been estranged from my sister the last thirty years! I didn't want that, as annoying as she was. The euphoria over the match win still hadn't even died down yet ("This moment – this moment right here – is why I was put on this earth!" James had practically sobbed at the subsequent celebration party) although Roxanne clearly wasn't feeling it as she stood across from me. The summer season was just heating up with dozens more customers than your usual Wednesday, so Dad probably could've used me helping out at the shop, but I was starting to wonder whether it was worth taking the afternoon off for this after all.

"Seriously, I FAIL to even remember the last time you were in this shop!" Roxanne accused, cocking a hip at me from the shelf she was currently re-stocking.

"Look, I have this thing called a life?" I bit out. "Perhaps you've heard of it? I've been busy trying to keep it, so SORRY if I haven't been helping out as much."

"Really, Dogbreath, you're gonna be the reason Dad's heart finally gives out," Roxanne accused.

"What?" I scowled back at her.

"You haven't heard? _Duh_ , 'course you haven't," Roxanne rolled her eyes. "They're super pissed you didn't come to dinner, by the way. They wanted to talk to both of us about it."

"About _what?_ " I growled.

Roxanne folded her arms defiantly across her chest. "Oh, so NOW he wants to listen to me!"

"Damnit, Roxie, now's not the time!" I snapped. "I actually wanted to talk to you, but if you're not gonna cooperate, then tell me about Dad instead, _Jesus_."

Roxanne looked like she didn't quite believe me (or maybe didn't want to believe me) but, "Fine," she eventually said through gritted teeth. "They didn't tell me directly 'cause they wanted you there as well when they did, but I heard them talking. Apparently Dad's been having like, these weird chest pains recently. I think he's gonna go into hospital next week to run some tests or something."

"Get the hell out. Whaddyou mean _chest pains_?" I demanded at once.

"I don't _know_ , that's probably why they're having him tested," Roxanne pointed out. "We'd both already know all this if you ever bothered to show up."

Well, this conversation was going super. It had taken a weird turn that I hadn't been expecting, and I suddenly felt twice as bad. I didn't talk to my sister, I'd been avoiding my parents and now, apparently my dad was sick or something and I'd had no fucking clue! Part of me wanted to demand more out of Roxanne, ask her everything, ask her whether I'd really fucked up so badly that she was never going to want to talk to me again, but the time for that conversation had changed now. Or maybe it was just easier instead to walk away, leaving her to re-stocking (and her yelling after me, "SCREW YOUR FACE, FRED!") and heading for out back, but I don't know.

Maybe I'm just a coward.

"YO, DAD," I yelled, slamming the break room door shut behind me. "THE PRODIGAL SON HAS ARRIVED!"

"Oh, and you are?" Dad stuck his head around the entrance to out back.

"Not you as well!" I complained. "Dad, please kindly tell Roxie that she's full of shit?"

Dad just rolled his eyes before pulling back and I followed after his voice through the break room and out back to the preparation area. The huge mixing table had about three cauldrons bubbling, my dad watching over them as he mixed up new stock, a couple of his other employees pottering around on the other side. I threw an acknowledging wave to Verity and the others before following after Dad.

"I've heard about this nonsense fight you and your sister got into," Dad said, not taking his eyes off the potion he was currently brewing. "She told me all about it at dinner the other week, which you conveniently didn't turn up for."

"I had a thing."

"Of course you did," Dad said.

"No, really!" I insisted. "Emma's family was having a birthday thing for her nephew, and I, uh …"

Went of my own free will, knowing I already had other plans that night. I trailed off as the potions bubbled and I think Dad knew that I was struggling to hold to my story. He saw right through me. He always does.

"Fred, we seriously wanted to talk to both you and your sister," he said, glancing over.

"Yeah, yeah, Mum's already had a go at me – Roxie said that you've gone and had a heart attack or something?"

"Merlin's pants – it's nothing _that_ serious," Dad grumbled, slamming his wand down and shooting me a look. "I swear, I'm fine!"

"Are you sure?"

"Would I be working if I wasn't?"

"Uh, yeah," I said flatly. "You work through everything. You even worked through your birthday."

Dad didn't answer that, which I suppose I should have anticipated. His birthday was always a rough day. He did used to be a twin, after all. "Sorry, that was low," I grumbled, shuffling a foot.

"Look, Fred, I appreciate your concern," Dad said after a moment. The grip of his hand on my shoulder was uncomfortably tight, but I said nothing. "Truly, I do! But I am fine. There's literally no reason to worry, I'm just going to be the hospital for a few hours, tops. They'll run some tests and everything will come back normal."

"Well, can you make up your mind about whether this is serious or not?" I asked. "Because one minute it was a travesty that I didn't turn up to dinner, and the next you're insisting you're fine!"

Dad spluttered a moment, clearly not sure which angle to keep playing.

"Yeah, ok Dad."

"Hey! The one I should be concerned about is you!" Dad said. "Didn't Rose end up in hospital a couple months ago because of you?"

"What? _Noooooo_ , that totally wasn't my fault," I cried. At his hard look, however, I hastily added, "Well, ok maybe … but Rose was drunk! She didn't HAVE to climb the balcony with me."

"In what universe would climbing a building EVER be a good idea?" Dad said, exasperatedly.

"Come on, you would have done it," I accused.

"I know! That's why I'm worried!" Dad said. "Honestly, Fred, you're going to get yourself killed one of these days. We don't harp on at you just for fun, we care, and when we ask you to come to dinner, we expect you to listen–"

"Dad, I told you, Mum's already yelled at me lately," I cut in, hastily. "I get it, you don't need to as well."

"If you got it, Fred, you'd listen," Dad pointed out.

"I'M SORRY, blimey," I cried. "I'm an idiot, and I need to start treating my family better, _whatever_ , are we good now?"

Dad just shook his head, going back to this potion. "I'm not really the one you should be apologising to."

"I've been meaning to talk to Roxie, I swear."

"Why haven't you, then?"

"It's not that easy."

"I think it is," Dad said. "I've got two very stubborn kids, but if I raised you right, then apologising should be something that you are more than capable of doing."

I grumbled, but he was right, of course. I let my dad have that one and he chuckled triumphantly. "Yep! There's my dear son. Could be worse, I suppose. You could still be insisting you're just mates with that girl of yours."

" _Dad!_ "

"Ahhhh, 'just mates'," Dad faked sighed. "That takes me back to the good ol' days!"

"The good ol' days, you mean when Merlin was still alive?" I muttered.

Dad at least managed a laugh at that, apparently abandoning his current potion as a lost cause now and instead, poking out the fire with his wand. He leaned against the table as he looked at me. "Yeah, back with Merlin, the year 1997. I lost count how many times Ron yelled at me 'we're just friends'. So precious. We almost would have believed him if he didn't get so defensive every single time, it's why we teased him so bloody much."

"Aunt Hermione, huh?"

"Aunt Hermione," Dad shook his head. "Getting under his skin was the best! Still is, really, only it's not quite so interesting to make fun of that anymore considering they've been married the last thirty years or whatever. Nah, tease him about his grey hairs! Now _that_ gets him going."

"You say 'we'," I muttered, folding my arms. "Was that you and Uncle Fred?"

Dad glanced down a moment. "Yeah," he answered.

Oh, Uncle Fred. We don't talk about him. Scratch that, we _never_ talk about him. I've never pretended to know much about that aspect of my family history, 'cause I'd rather everyone stayed sound and not fucking miserable all the time, you hear? But it was impossible not to bring up sometimes. Hell, I was named after the bloke! My dad had been bad enough, I could only imagine if there had been two of them, and it was clear to tell from that portrait behind the front counter and other photos I'd seen that my dad had certainly never been the same since. For a second, I almost wondered whether he was happy he had heart problems …

"Promise me you're ok," I demanded suddenly.

"Fred–"

"Dad," I snapped. "I said promise me."

"Fred, I promise you," Dad said, exasperatedly. "I'm _fine_ –"

But he suddenly cut himself off in a curse, wincing.

"Dad?" I asked. He didn't answer, but leaned heavily against the table. " _Dad_? What's happening?"

"It's fine, I–" Dad muttered. "I felt kind of nauseated all of a sudden, but I'm–" Another wince. " _Damn_ , that hurt."

"Are you ok?"

"I don't know – _oh, shit_ –" His face had gone completely pale. "Ok. Fred, listen, I need you to get help–"

"Fuck, fuck –" I looked wildly around, not really knowing what the hell was happening. I yelled out across the mixing table and got Verity and the others' attention at least, asked them to call somebody. "Dad! Oh my god, something's seriously wrong, isn't it? Shit – breathe – I don't know – what do I DO?"

I got no answer from him except the word 'burning'. He gripped my arm hard as I yelled,

" _Dad_!"

And I kept screaming.

"DAD!"

* * *

A/N: ...

I'm sorry. I know. I disappear for weeks, then first chapter of 2017 and I turn up again with this? I am tERRIBLE.

I promise yall that I will do my absolute best to not leave you hanging for weeks on end after this! Seriously swear to god that I'll get the next chapter to you soon, although I'll warn you to brace yourselves for pain and destruction ( _againi'msorryyyyy_ ). I'm sorry for the shit editing, I'm sorry for what is probably super mood whiplash. If it helps, today also happens to be twelfth night (6th Jan, the 12th day after Christmas) which, as we all know, is Happy GIR Day! Um, yay?

But I love all of you so much, thank you seriously for still being here and still sticking with my dear Fremma. Bear with me, I'm gonna get emotional for a moment, because it's 2017 now, new year, new things to appreciate and all that! When 16-year-old me sat down and started writing GIR, I honestly had no idea that I would end up at this point, nearly 25 and still bloody writing this universe. I know my fics aren't easy, I throw all sorts of crazy drama at you, I travel overseas and practically abandon updates for weeks at a time, but seriously THANK YOU. I love my GIR World so much and the only reason I've gotten to this point is because of you guys who read and comment every damn time. THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU. x

I hope you managed to uhhh like this chapter, haha. Please please please let me know what you think!

All the best for 2017,  
Moon. xoxo

PS. Please forgive any errors I might have made here in terms of the adoption process. I did a LOT of research, but any information I couldn't find out I took some liberties with! (If someone reading out there can inform me better, please do!) x


	32. That one time I …

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

 **Note:** Uhhhhh... yeah. Prepare yourselves, this gets intense, #sorry.

* * *

Chapter 32: That one time I …

It was past midnight, but I didn't care.

I was freezing and I'd left my jacket at the hospital, but _who the fuck cared_.

Who cares about anything anymore.

I eventually Flooed home, but found myself just standing in the middle of my longue, not knowing what to do. I felt like my head should be spinning, but instead it was just … clouded over. I couldn't think anything, I couldn't feel anything. I could barely notice my surroundings. I only realised that Emma had turned up when she yelled in my ear.

"Good lord, where have you been?" she cried. If I'd been paying attention, I might've noticed the blankets on the sofa, her pyjamas rumpled and hair wild. She'd been waiting for me to get home. "Fred? Are you ok–?"

"Emma …" I finally found her face and met her eye. "My dad is dead."

Emma simply stared for several moments.

I barely even knew how to start explaining how my life had somehow fallen apart within the last couple of hours. Somewhere between my dad collapsing, until the moment at the hospital when the Healer had told us that he hadn't made it, my world had somehow crashed around my ears. Fuck, nothing was registering in my head, it had all happened so quickly. I could only recall vague things, like my sister sobbing and clinging to my neck, the look on Dad's face when he couldn't breathe anymore, the colour of the emergency department doors …

"Oh … my god," Emma's voice wavered. "Shit. Are you … Fred, I–"

If she eventually thought of something to say, I didn't catch it. Everything was moving in a blur and I didn't even notice that she'd sat me down on the sofa. What do you do when your senses have just shut down, when you feel numb to everything? My mind was running in fucking circles, it didn't know what to do, what to process. The only thing I seemed to be able to concentrate on was Emma's face.

I think she made me coffee or something, since she had shoved something small and warm into my hands, though I didn't have the slightest inclination to drink anything. I just kept looking at her. Keep looking at her face, Fred. You can do that.

She sank down and sat on the coffee table in front of me. "Jesus, Fred. You're cold as ice," I realised that she had pressed a hand to my cheek. "I think you're in shock, or something. Let me–"

I think she put a blanket around my shoulders. I don't know.

"Didn't anyone talk to you?" she muttered, mostly to herself. "Christ. Fred … can you speak to me? Tell me what happened?"

Could I? Could I talk to her without breaking down? Oh, who the hell cared, maybe I was breaking down already.

"Dad and I were talking," I shrugged blankly. "Arguing a little. He had a heart attack. Turns out he'd been having symptoms for a while. It's a common thing, though, Muggles die of heart disease more than any other reason."

I couldn't really hear my own voice, but I knew that I mustn't sound like myself at all, if Emma's reaction was anything to go by. The hand at my face had moved to my shoulder, and she squeezed it tightly. I felt that. She was frowning, maybe concerned. Maybe I'd sounded like I had been analysing a patch of dirt or something.

"You were there when it happened?" she asked, quietly.

"Yeah. I called the mediwizards," I told her. "I called my mum. Roxanne and I were with him at the hospital, but he was already dead by the time Mum got there."

"Oh my god …"

"I don't know why I'm telling you," I admitted.

Emma let go of my shoulder and suddenly, I wanted it back. Her hand had been the only thing I'd managed to feel within the last several hours. Apparently, she was only moving to take the mug out of my hands, but I sought out her skin anyway, shrugging off the blanket. I gripped her hands, pulling her towards me.

"Fred–"

"Touch me," I murmured.

"No," she said, firmly. She didn't allow herself to be pulled in, instead folding up her legs and sitting next to me. "Fred, I've never seen you like this before–"

"Of course you haven't, my dad is dead."

"Look, I get it," Emma squeezed her eyes shut, leaning forward and pressing her forehead to my arm a second. "Your body and mind are handling this in the only way it knows how. I am so sorry. Christ, I can't imagine what you must be feeling."

"I feel you," I said. "Literally, all I can feel is you."

"Fred …"

"Don't get angry at me! You said no, I get that," I suddenly felt a spark at her tone when she said my name. There was pity in there. She felt sorry for me, and I sure as fuck didn't like that. I had felt absolutely nothing until I came here and that was ok. I could handle this when I felt nothing. But if she was gonna make me feel angry, then there was no telling what else could come through, and damn it, I wasn't going to sit around and let everything spill out.

"Hey!" Emma retorted, gripping my knee firmly. "I'm not mad at you! But keep snapping, and I might just get there. I understand if you don't want to talk, but–"

"Get away from me," I suddenly jerked away from her. I didn't know how to explain it, but I suddenly couldn't be near her. She was starting to hurt too much. I lurched to my feet, unsteady on numb legs and Emma thankfully stayed where she was.

"What the hell did I do?"

"Leave me alone, Emma," I ground out, folding my arms defensively across my chest.

"I don't understand!" Emma pleaded from my sofa. "Please, Fred – one second you want me close, and then you shove me away! You're hurting, I get that, but if you didn't want to see me, if you really wanted to be alone, then you wouldn't have come here."

"Where the hell else am I supposed to go?" I countered. "This is my flat!"

"Fred, you KNOW that I'm literally never anywhere else!" Emma said. She stood, and I startled back several paces. She didn't attempt to move forward.

"Well, maybe I had this crazy idea that you'd understand?" I suddenly snapped. "That maybe, just maybe, you'd realise that I don't want to fucking talk? Maybe I just want to sit in silence, maybe I just want to kiss you and forget about it, I don't know! … don't look at me like that," I added, bitterly.

"Fred …"

"I said DON'T."

"I am not sleeping with you," Emma said. "Maybe I wasn't–"

"It was fucking clear."

"Fred," Emma said, voice low. "I am here for you. Hell, I am always bloody here for you, but you are not ok right now."

"Do you SERIOUSLY think that's the only reason I'd ever come to you?" I was fucking yelling now. "Fucking Christ, Emma, did it ever occur to you that I'm actually letting you see me like this? That I was glad that I knew you'd be here when I left than DAMN hospital? That the only person I could want at a time like this is you?! I came home without thinking because you are my best friend and I thought you'd fucking know me better than that by now!"

Emma faltered slightly. She rubbed her hands over her eyes for a moment, before looking back up and there was longing, there were a lot of other things in that look that I couldn't recognise because my head was starting to swim again. Her face, Fred, concentrate on her face.

"Fred, I'm sorry," she said, voice soft. "I am so, so sorry, for absolutely everything that you are going through. But we are complicated enough, and quite honestly, I think you'll wake up tomorrow and realise you've blocked a lot of these memories out–"

"Right! Because that sounds like me," I said, scathingly.

"You know I didn't mean it like–"

"But that's what I do, right? I fuck shit up, and then ignore it all, pretend nothing happened!" I'm not even entirely sure I was aware of what I was saying. I was just concentrating on Emma's shining face and found the words pouring. "Sounds like me! It's fine, you don't have to tell me, I already know what a useless fuckhead I am. Get this, my dad died today and you want to know what I said before they took him into the emergency department? Nothing! I said fucking NOTHING. My sister was there, she was practically screaming, but I swear to fucking Merlin that I stared down my dying father and didn't say a goddamn thing–!"

Shit.

A pressure was building up behind my eyes and in my brain. Yeah, pain was definitely starting to break through a crack in the numbness, but I wasn't ready to face it yet. How the hell was I ever supposed to be ready? I pinched the bridge of my nose and for the first time since coming home, tried not to look at Emma. She was the only thing that I could see clearly and if I did, it'd all be over.

As we all know, Emma was fucking endgame.

My dad was dead.

 _My dad was dead_.

Emma said something but it just sounded like a dull ring in my ears. In fact, it took several goes for me to realise she was actually saying my name, and that she had stepped forward in close. Her hands fluttered out, hesitantly resting on my hips. She pressed her head against my chest, apparently waiting to see whether I was going to let her hug me or not.

 _My dad was dead_.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again.

I didn't answer.

"Just … just come to bed. Please?"

Silently, I nodded.

"Right then," I let Emma lead me away.

* * *

I woke up with Emma wrapped around me.

I could tell I hadn't slept very long. The light behind my curtains was still just edging into morning. I think the shock was wearing off, since I was starting to actually notice things beyond Emma, see things, hear things. Think things. I glanced down at Emma tucked under my chin. She had her nose buried in my neck and an arm wrapped tightly around me, and I realised that for the first time in my life, I had absolutely no anxiety whatsoever about her being that close. She couldn't be close enough. She was an anchor, the only thing currently holding me in one place; like last night, she was the only clear thing in the room. But even more, I felt her. I felt the care, the affection, the warmth in the way she held me, and it wasn't scaring me anymore. I'd always known that I wanted it, but like Clara learning to commando crawl, I'd been scared of moving. I wasn't scared anymore.

There were worse things you could feel.

I don't know whether I'll ever be able to describe what happened at that hospital. It played as a series of nightmarish images in my head, but nothing was coherent. It was all just helplessly strung together, in no semblance of order. I remembered the moment my dad couldn't breathe waiting for the mediwizards and the look on his face. I remembered trying to find my cell phone, trying to find an intercom, anything that would call Mum immediately, but nothing got through. I remembered being told to wait, being asked questions – how long as he been having symptoms? How long since being deprived of oxygen? _I don't know, I don't know, I don't know a fucking thing because I am useless_ – and I remembered sitting on the edge of a hard plastic seat with Roxanne right next to me.

I don't remember the moment we were told he was dead. I think I was standing. I remember Roxanne crying, clinging to me and sobbing into my neck. I hadn't cared about any fights between us at that point. I don't know how I reacted. I'd been so numb that I probably just stood there.

I know I left the hospital before Mum turned up.

Christ. I couldn't think about Mum. I couldn't think any more about Roxanne or hospitals or Healers with solemn faces, or I'd go fucking insane. I pressed my face into Emma's hair to try and block it out, but I accidentally woke her instead. She stirred, and I loosened my grip on her so that she could move, rubbing her eyes warily.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi."

"What time is it?"

"Early. I think. I don't know, you don't have to get up."

"You look better than you did last night," Emma noted.

"Knock it off," I said roughly.

"What?"

"The way you're looking at me!" I scowled, turning away from her and instead staring at the cracked ceiling. "Stop it!"

I had thought that Emma would just take it. I honestly barely remembered anything from last night, from the moment Dad collapsed, to the moment I finally fell asleep, but I know that Emma had taken a lot of my yelling stoically. Apparently, she wasn't doing that anymore. "Fred," she thundered. "You don't want my pity, fine. You're not getting any."

I sighed, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Good," Emma kissed my shoulder lightly. "Then let's get up, because I'm assuming there'll be loads of shit to get through today."

But just the mere thought of facing the day made my throat close up. Hell, I suddenly wanted to just hide under the covers and fucking stay there forever. I was going to have to organise a funeral. I was going to have to make sure my sister didn't bloody lose it. I was going to have to accept condolences and listen to the entire family tell us how sorry they are and how upset they were and NOPE.

It wasn't happening.

I threw an arm over my face. "I'm not moving."

"What're you talking about?" Emma sighed. "Fred, you have to move."

"Mmm … nope! No, I'm fairly certain I don't _have_ to do anything," I mumbled. "No, I think I'll just stay here, this bed really is quite divine."

"Fred–"

" _I can't do it, Emma_ ," I suddenly shot out. "Don't make me!"

Emma did recover from my snapping at her, but nothing else she said or did was going to change my mind.

I stayed in bed all day.

Literally, I refused to leave it. Emma spent the better part of the whole day trying to get me to move, but I ignored every tactic she attempted. She yelled. She stole the duvet. She cried. I hated it. I hated that she was upset, I hated that I was causing it, I'd caused this woman more than enough pain and tears. I hated literally everything right now, but I still couldn't bring myself to move. I couldn't do it, I honestly couldn't. I just stayed there, lying on my side and pressing my face into the mattress. At one point Emma just crawled up behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"I'm sorry, Fred," she whispered. "I don't know how to help you …"

I didn't move, so she didn't move. We ended up staying like that for over an hour, despite the fact that mundane things like _hungry_ and _bathroom_ we're starting to creep into my mind. She didn't know how to help me, and I sure as hell didn't know how either. Bed was safe, bed was hidden away from all the screaming that was fighting to get its way into my head.

I didn't have to face anything if I never moved.

It was sometime in the early evening when there was eventually a knock on the door. Emma got up quickly, sniffing and rubbing at her face as she left to answer it. I heard her open the door from down the hallway and immediately recognised the voices.

" _I'm so sorry, James … I, yeah, he's here. But I don't know what to tell ya, he won't move …_ "

" _What d'you mean won't move?_ "

" _I got him to go to sleep last night, but he won't get out of bed. I've tried everythin', I swear …_ "

" _It's ok, Em. Let me talk to him._ "

Fuck.

There was some shuffling, some murmuring and the front door closed. Then, there were footsteps heading my direction. I was facing the door unfortunately and watched as James inched inside my bedroom, catching sight of no doubt the pillows and duvet strewn everywhere, and me still just lying there. He looked utterly exhausted.

"Hey, mate," he said.

I said nothing.

"So, I heard," he mentioned. He came and sat down on the carpet opposite me, leaning against the wall. I didn't want to listen to him. I didn't want to hear about how the rest of the family took the news. I didn't want to hear about my mum and sister and how they were probably mad and looking for me.

 _My dad was dead_.

"I barely even know what to say," James added. "Mum called me at like, one in the morning and told me. You might be able to tell, but I hardly slept. Clara didn't either. Normally, I'd say it was because she was being her usual demon self, but … I think she knew something was up this time."

Again, nothing.

"Roxie told me that you were both there," James mentioned.

"What of it?"

"Oh, he does speak!" James grabbed a pillow and threw it at my head. "Good to know you haven't turned into a potato. Soooo … how's it going?"

I bit my tongue and stared at the mattress.

"Aw, c'mon," James said, roughly. "I practically grew up in your house."

"Fuck off."

James scowled at me. "You don't get to attack me like that. I'm trying to be here for you. Emma's trying to be here for you –"

"Neither of you know shit," I ground out. "He's not – he wasn't – your dad!"

"He was my favourite uncle," James reminded me. "He was another dad, just like mine is another dad to you. Fred, I'm not saying don't be sad. I'm not saying don't grieve. I'm saying your dad died yesterday, and your mum is going spare because she doesn't know where the hell you are. She's terrified that you've gone and done something stupid, and quite frankly, I was afraid that you had as well."

 _I'm a fucking useless idiot._

"Now get up," James said. "I'm starving and Merlin knows you must be as well."

"I'm not moving."

"Well, I ain't bringing you food in here–"

"I'M NOT MOVING!" I suddenly yelled.

James blinked at me. I didn't know where that came from, but so far aggression and anger was far easier than the guilt. "I am not going to move!" I yelled again, roughly turning away from him. "There's too many things I should have done, too many things I should have said, and fuck it, I'm not doing it! So what if I just keep on lying here forever, so what if Mum and Roxie are looking for me, _I'm not fucking moving_!"

I heard James move, though. There was rustling and I felt the bed dip as he apparently sat on the edge gingerly. I flinched as I felt him squeeze my shoulder, felt that pain threatening to burst through, but numb … stay numb, Fred. Don't feel anything and you can get through this. Feel nothing.

"I'm sorry," James said, quietly. "Look, if this is your way of dealing, then fine. Just know that I am so, so sorry …"

I heard him sniff and I found myself saying, "… you ok?"

"I just can't believe it," James' voice broke.

I sighed and forced myself to sit up. The second I was upright, James threw his arms around me. I was hungry, that was all. I knew it was impractical to just stay in bed forever. This didn't mean I had to do anything else. There might be a funeral soon, there might be family members who wanted to 'comfort' me but fuck it all. I wasn't required to do anything. I could just get on with my life and it would be as simple as that … but James was my best friend, my brother at the end of the day. He needed me right now. I wasn't such a bastard that I'd shove him away.

We clung to each other a long time.

Eventually, I was pulled out of my room to find that Emma had ordered pizza at some point, which I gladly ate without thinking or saying anything. I barely spoke the rest of the evening, actually. James stuck around a bit. He told Emma that Libby was at home with Clara, which made me feel bad that James was still here, apparently looking after me or some dumb shit like that. I told him to go home, but he just told me to shut up.

Emma almost didn't want to go to sleep. She'd been quiet ever since James turned up, but by the time it got to nine o'clock and James had already passed out on the sofa, she'd taken one look at me and said,

"I don't …"

"I'm tired, Emma. Please, can we just go to bed."

"You scared me," she whispered. "I don't want to see you like that ever again."

"I promise I'll get up in the morning," I said. "Please. I …"

The expression on her face said everything. She was tired, too. She just wanted to sleep, but she was terrified of me. I had to do something to reassure her, so I reached out and took her hand. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Emma let out a heavy breath before we both moved together for bed.

* * *

There are a lot of bloody things to organise when someone dies.

Nobody tells you this shit. In all those movies Emma and I watched, you only see the heart wrenching funeral scenes, or the actual death scenes, because duh, no one wants to watch how the son of the deceased had to yell at his mother's boss that they were lawfully entitled to let her have bereavement leave even during one of the busiest times of her job at the Ministry. No one wants to realise that you have to think about where the hell the body is being kept, who to get the medical certificate off so that you can even register the death in the first place. That you're going to have constant owls and flowers delivered to your house when all you want to do is scream at the world to leave you the fuck alone.

No one wants to know about that. But I knew about it, because like hell was I going to let my mum and sister go through it.

I don't even know what kind of state I was in. Everything just felt too surreal, like it wasn't actually happening. The Quidditch final had literally been days ago, mine and Emma's birthdays were in a week, life was … life had been normal. Life had been going ok. This had all just come straight out of nowhere, and sometimes I had to stop and shake my head, realise that it was real. Sometimes I felt out of control, that my brain didn't know how to function, so it was just grabbing onto the motions, carrying on while the rest of me tried to catch up. I don't even know if I wanted to catch up.

I wanted my dad.

Of course, in times of crisis, the Weasley family makes tea. I practically moved home over the next few days as my attention was constantly needed there. Lord fucking knows I didn't want to. I wanted to go back to bed. I wanted to just crawl in next to Emma and never come out, but we know now that that just wasn't possible, so if I had to be conscious, then I was going to be concentrating on the shit that needed doing. Just … try and occupy my dumb fucking _useless_ brain.

The first time I saw Roxanne after abandoning her to Mum at the hospital, she broke down in my arms.

" _I'm – I'm so sorry_ …" She flung herself at me in the hallway, arms tight around my waist. "I – I don't wanna fight, I don't wanna hate you …"

And you know, I couldn't remember the last time I'd ever hugged my sister.

"I don't wanna hate you, either," I muttered, tightening my arms around her.

I let her cry. I think Mum was out somewhere, maybe visiting some other members of the family, so we were alone in our childhood home. Roxanne sobbed into my shirt and I held her without complaint, trying not to notice too much the long, narrow hallway that we used to thunder our way through, the staircase that Dad once fell down because Roxanne had left her dolls at the top. Roxanne and I might not be super close, but she was my only sister, and she was the only other person in the world who might understand whatever the hell was happening in my head right now. Was I really so shallow that it took our dad fucking DYING to get me to talk to her again?

He'd be so ashamed of me, I knew it.

Eventually, Roxanne managed to calm down slightly and I pulled back, glancing down at her. I sometimes forgot that she was the baby of the family, but ever since this shit hit the fan, I hadn't failed to be reminded. Her black curls were plaited away from her brown face, although now her skin was more red and blotchy. She looked so small, had looked so helpless the last couple days, and she hadn't even mentioned her latest boyfriend yet, which led me to believe that she might not even have one at the moment. I grabbed her arm and pulled her to the staircase, climbing up and sitting down somewhere near the middle.

She sank down next to me, staying close. "I'm stupid," she said, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, but so am I."

"Fred," Roxanne glanced up at me. "Seriously, I'm sorry."

I sighed. "You shouldn't have to be. I was the one who was a douchebag to you. Hell, I was probably even worse than that bloke you dated."

"We weren't dating," Roxanne reminded me.

"Right, right – 'talking'," I snorted. "Whatever the loving fuck that means."

"Keep going."

"Well," I leaned against the stair behind me, curling an arm around my sister. "I'm nothing but a arsehole who apparently judges people without even thinking about it. Your life is your life. You're allowed to do whatever you want with it. You're allowed to date whoever you want, you're allowed to make your own choices. I'm sorry for implying that you deserved to be hurt like that, no one _ever_ deserves that."

My sister burrowed into my arm a little more. "You're forgiven Fred, seriously."

"But I did the exact opposite of what you asked me."

"I asked you not to call the Aurors and you did, yes," Roxanne said, talking to our knees. "but I need to apologise as well. No, sometimes I don't consider the consequences of my actions and there was a huge chance that that bloke could have physically lashed out. You were right to get more help, get people who were trained to deal with that kind of thing, but I didn't want a fuss and I took it out on you. I made that choice, fine. But it was my choice, and I have to face that when it ultimately blows up in my face."

"So we're both little shits, basically."

"Basically," Roxanne said, softly.

We were silent a few moments, the two of us sat together on the stairs.

"We've never really been good siblings to each other, have we?" Roxanne asked.

"Ehhh, I dunno," I shrugged, jostling her a little on purpose. "We have our moments."

"But I do nothing but make fun of you," Roxanne insisted. "and not in a nice way. We judge each other, we try to get a rise out of each other, we don't do it for fun, we're actually pretty shitty to each other."

Maybe we were. I knew we could definitely stand to treat each other a bit better, but Roxanne was forgetting so many times that we had actually helped each other. Hell, not just any brother would come and rescue her from bathrooms in the middle of the night. She's the one who'd convinced me that I just needed to tell Emma I loved her before we got to the point where we never spoke again. True, we weren't perfect … but we weren't lost causes either.

"Roxie, I love you."

She managed a small smile, more than I could manage these days at least, as she answered,

"Fred, I love you too."

It was good to finally be talking openly with my sister, but there was still a huge cloud that hung over us. Dad was everywhere, seeping through this house like a fog. A part of my dad had crawled down my throat and was lodged there now, making it difficult to breathe whenever I remembered. I wanted to ask how Roxanne was handling it, but I couldn't make myself say the words. I didn't want to remember, I didn't want to be here, I didn't want this to be the only reason I'd ever apologise to my sister. I'd abandoned Roxanne – as a brother, as family, at the hospital – but she wasn't the only one. I'd abandoned Dad as well.

He hadn't been ok. He had been sick. He and Mum had wanted to talk to me about it, talk to both of us, but I'd been too busy caught up in my own damn life, too busy caring about myself and wanting to avoid my sister that I didn't listen, didn't care. If I had gone to that family dinner, would things have been different? Would Roxanne and I have convinced Dad to go to the hospital sooner, catch the symptoms quicker? Would he still be alive if I'd only just pulled my head out of my FUCKING arse?

I couldn't do this.

"Shall we go get it, then?" Roxanne asked.

"I'm sorry?" I tried not to sound too choked.

"Dad's will?" Roxanne sighed. "I'm assuming that's why you're here, Mum asked us to go get it from the attic?"

"Oh," _Shit_. "Yeah, uh … let's go."

Thanks to Mum's love of hording and holding onto anything remotely nostalgic, the attic of our house was filled with boxes upon boxes of crap that honestly, no one really needed anymore. It was a bloody nightmare up there amongst the dust and probably a rat or two. Roxanne coughed as she climbed up the ladder first. "Holy Jesus," She held a hand over her mouth. "When was the last time anyone ever sorted out up here?"

"I think before you were born," I said, climbing up after her.

Of course, it could be as simple as Summoning Dad's will to us, but Roxanne got distracted by a box of old baby clothes, and then that did it. She was lost in the sea of the attic. Most of the shit up here was unremarkable: boxes of old school books, family albums, old furniture or lamps, childhood drawings from Roxanne and I, and even grungy-looking kitchen utensils at one point. Roxanne called out to me every now and then about something random she'd found, and I answered back simply because I think she liked being reassured that I was still there.

It wasn't actually until I found a box that was labelled, ' _Don't open_ ' until anything of significance was found.

I almost yelled out to Roxanne, but she was currently humming behind the old armchair that used to be in our lounge before she had accidentally cracked the back in a fit of uncontrolled magic. Instead, I opened the box myself. I had no clue what I was going to find inside, except that it was Dad's handwriting.

As it turns out, what was inside made me realise I barely knew my dad at all.

It seemed to be memorabilia of another lifetime. There was a stack of photos dating all the way back to the 1980s, all of them featuring my dad, his late twin brother, or both. There were some of two identical little kids, pulling faces at the camera. There was one they'd taken themselves, my uncle Ron shoved into the middle looking unimpressed. Another taken of the hole in the side of my dad's head where his ear used to be, back when it was shiny and raw. On the back, someone with similar but somehow altogether different handwriting, had written:

' _For reference, 1997 – we'll catch the bastard that did this_ '

There were birthday cards written to each other in that box. There was a musty knitted blue jumper crumpled up in there. Basically anything that might have reminded my dad of his twin brother … it had been shoved in here, crammed into a box and put away in the attic where he didn't have to see it.

How did he ever get over it? I frowned and suddenly shoved the box closed.

He probably never did.

"Hey, I think I found it!" Roxanne suddenly called out from the other side of the attic.

"Good!" I yelled back, standing up quickly. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

The night before the funeral, I found myself drinking at a party for one.

I couldn't exactly remember the decision to open the bottle of Firewhiskey anymore. Sometime between coming home and now, I guess. It had been a long day of arrangements, arguing with good-natured family members who _only wanted to help_ , but bloody hell, we didn't need any more help, and when I'd finally dragged myself home, it was to find that Emma wasn't here.

Maybe that was when I'd started drinking.

She was normally good at leaving notes if she wasn't here, but there was nothing this time. She was probably just working late. Maybe she went to see Libby. Hell, she could have fucking gone home, it's not like she actually officially lived here or anything, since we never ever talked about it. We never talk about anything, remember?

The Firewhiskey tasted disgusting for some reason, but it was working well at dulling the senses. I was drinking straight out of a large bottle, so I had no idea how many glasses I'd had, but I was at the point where I wouldn't be standing anytime soon, I knew that. I'd apparently thought ahead and chosen the bathroom for this particular meltdown, since I literally sat in my bathtub. I never used this thing, it just came with the bathroom and did nothing but gathered dust, but since I'm a freak who likes to clean, it was always ready in case the opportunity arose. Why didn't we use it, again? Surely Emma and I should have taken advantage of it by this point, why wouldn't we? In what bloody universe would I ever say no to being wrapped around a warm, wet and naked Emma?

The flush of desire at the thought was accompanied by suddenly and quite desperately missing her. I knew she couldn't be far away, but I was drunk, I was thinking about anything other than my dad, and I wanted her so badly to be here. When she was here, everything was ok! I could get up, I could face things when she was around. When I was around her, I didn't have to think about anything else, just like that first night after he died and all I could see was her face. She kept me grounded, she was my person, and without her, my brain was spiralling.

 _You miss him._

Fuck this shit. I took a gulp of Firewhiskey that was probably slightly too much and nearly choked a little, suddenly retching over into the tub. My face burned as I watched the coughed up alcohol swirl as it slowly drained away. Kind of like my will to live, HA, aren't I hilarious? When she wasn't here, this is what happened, I lost it. I would remember Dad, I can see him so plainly it was like he was never gone, and I'd start thinking _why. Why the fuck did you die? You were sick, but could you have gotten better? It was a heart attack, people survive heart attacks, you knew you weren't 100% ok, why didn't you do anything? Why didn't you go to the hospital earlier? Did you want to die?_

 _Is it my fault?_

I didn't hear Emma come in, but apparently, she heard me. By the time I noticed, she was standing in front of the bathtub, hands on hips, and I called up to her,

"EMMAAAA! Heeeey, Emma – sorry, you're late, you're missin' the paaaartay!"

"Clearly," she muttered, looking down at me. She plucked the Firewhiskey bottle from my hand and winced at the amount left. "Was this full when you opened it?"

"You weren't 'ere to drunk it – I mean drink – _drink_ it wif'me."

"Bloody hell," she said. "Fred, talk to me. Have you been sick at all?"

"I think I threw up jus' before, I dunno …"

"Do I have to take you to the hospital?"

"WHAT? Noooooo, 'mm fine!" I had no idea what she was talking about, I was _drunk_ , I wasn't fucking dying! Not like my dad did. I reached up for her and managed to grab onto a hand, but it kept moving and suddenly I felt a little nauseous. "Emmaaa, come join me! Sit wif'mee, I ever tell ya you're gorgeous?"

"Many times," Emma sighed, before apparently resigning herself and clambering into the bathtub next to me. Her legs were shorter, but she still fit in comfortably at the head end, our feet dangling over together. She'd left the Firewhiskey on the floor and I complained,

"Heeeey, you left the alcohol!"

"On purpose, you're not drinkin' anymore tonight," she said.

I turned and found we were nose to nose. "No fair," I huffed.

"I'll let you drink it if you can get yourself out of this bathtub."

I almost attempted it, but just all the sudden talking and movement was making my head spin wildly and hell, I wasn't even sure if my limbs were still attached anymore. Is there a stage of drunkness when you feel disconnected? Because I'd surpassed that. I tried to throw an arm around Emma's shoulders, but I just ended up hitting her in the face.

"Stay still, ok?" She held down my arms. "You're gonna hurt yourself, otherwise."

"I like you, Emma."

"I like you too, but right now …" Her voice sobered slightly. "Fred …"

"Nooooo, no _Fred_ ," I whined, letting my head drop back, hitting the wall with a dull _thud_ that I barely felt. "'mm algood. Where were you?"

"I went home, I wanted to see my parents," Something stabbed me a little at those words, but I didn't want to address why. "I left a note, didn't you see it?"

"No note."

She sighed, leaning her head back as well. "I'm sorry, Fred. I'm sorry for all of this."

"For wha'?"

"You know what," she turned, our noses brushing again. "I wish I could make it better. I wish I didn't have to come home and find you like this …"

"Your parents don' live 'ere!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Youssaid you came home," I reminded her. "Youssaid you went home to see your parents, but your parents don' live 'ere!"

"God, I'm not sure my brain can handle drunk-you right now," Emma muttered. "Fred: no, my parents don't live here. We live here, but that's a conversation for later. I'm just … I wanna make sure you're ok."

If I was anything in the universe, it was absolutely nothing near the term 'ok'. I was a mess, actually, but if I said that, Emma would want to talk, and I didn't want to talk. Emma helped make the bad shit go away. I wanted to forget. I couldn't quite look at her, she was that close, but I could feel her breath against my cheek, and before I could really think, I was kissing her in the bathtub. Emma made a sound maybe like a protest, but she didn't pull away. I was drunk, it was probably far too much teeth and not enough tongue, but she lit me on fire and I didn't stop. I'd make it up to her later.

I finally managed to work a little coordination into my arms, wrapping one around her shoulders, sinking my fingers into her hair. I held her to me, I drank her in, she was the stuff only hopes and dreams were made of. What if I'd never met her? What if I'd never slept with her? I might never have had this woman in my life. I bit back words that it wasn't the right time to say and instead kissed her jaw, running my tongue over her skin. She murmured my name as I hit her neck.

My other hand had been resting on her knee, but now I ran it up her thigh, trying to feel her through the denim of her jeans. Suddenly, Emma jerked back from me.

"Wha'appened?"

"I'm not – Fred, I'm sorry."

Her hand had reached down, snatched at mine, holding it in place on her thigh so that I couldn't move it anymore. She burned to touch and I quickly yanked back. Fuck.

"'mm fine, Emma–"

"Don't bullshit me, you drank nearly an entire bottle of Firewhiskey by yourself and are sitting in the bathtub."

I blinked around us a little. "You're in 'ere, too."

Emma closed her eyes, letting out a short breath. "The funeral's tomorrow, Fred. You're gonna be hungover as hell in the morning and quite frankly, I don't want to have sex with you right now."

That burning feeling was still racing through me. Fuck, fuck, I've fucked up everything. That pressure was still inside me but it was threatening to choke me now, and I didn't know what to do. I felt like screaming. I felt like crying. I felt like throwing up and I felt like dying, but maybe I should start with an apology.

"'mm sorry, Emma."

"It's ok," she said.

"No, 'mm honestly _really, really sorry_."

"I'm gonna get you out of here and into bed now, ok?"

I didn't scream, cry or die, but I did throw up in the end, having finally gotten up only to be leaning back over the bathtub, the Firewhiskey coming back up and burning my throat.

It was hardly the worse thing.

* * *

The morning was a nightmare.

I woke up feeling like shit. _Blimey, the Firewhiskey was a bad idea,_ I figured in hindsight as I rubbed my eyes. I had no idea what I was supposed to do today. So far I'd done well staying around other people. It helped me keep a face on. Knowing others were watching made it easier to stay ok, stay functioning, to hold it together. I honestly don't know what I would have done without Emma being around. But I woke up that morning realising that _everyone_ was going to be looking at me today and expecting a reaction. They were going to see me and think, _oh poor Fred Weasley, his father's dead, he must be devastated …_ and god, Emma must hate me for last night. She wouldn't want to come within two feet of me.

Fuck today. I wasn't doing it.

But suddenly Emma was there, walking in with two mugs in her hand, and I realised that one must be for me. I caught the look in her eye and knew immediately, she was scared. She was scared that I wasn't going to get out of bed again, she'd probably been scared of me the last several days, actually. She silently offered one of the mugs, but instead I sat up and took both of them off her, placing them down on the beside table. She opened her mouth, probably to ask what I was doing, but before she could I pulled her down onto the bed with me. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, hauling her into my lap and not letting go. The hug was fierce, probably too tight, but she quickly held on as well and we didn't move for a long time.

"I'm sorry you saw me like that," I whispered.

"It's ok," she whispered back.

"It's not. I'm so sorry."

I'd just have to get through this shitty day. I'd get through it, then I could forget about it. Concentrate on the rest of my life that had just somehow come to a grinding halt the moment Dad collapsed in front of me …

Dad had wanted the same funeral procedure that his brother had had years ago: cremated and his ashes scattered into the wind from the top of a field behind the Burrow. I stood with Emma inside the room the service would take place in at the funeral home. It was filling with so many friends and family, to the point where I was seriously doubting that Dad even knew this many people. Roxanne was by the door, greeting people and thanking them for coming with Mum, but I'd refused point blank. I wouldn't even be here still if Emma hadn't taken my hand. Instead of running, she had threaded her fingers with mine and I found that I couldn't move now, even if I tried. Everybody had to be staring, but I didn't care. She stood close to my side and said nothing because she didn't need to. The fact that she was still here with me said enough.

When it was time for the service to start, Emma squeezed my hand.

"You can do this," she told me firmly.

I just nodded.

" _Fred_ ," Roxanne suddenly hissed at me as everyone started taking seats and piling into the room. The photo of Dad on top of his casket was grinning and waving and I couldn't look at either things. My sister grabbed my arm before I could sit down, whispering frantically,

"You have to give a eulogy!"

I almost choked. "I've already told you, I'm not saying anything."

"No, you _have_ to!" Roxanne was nearly crying. "Please, Fred, Mum's backed out and I couldn't possibly make her do it. I'm already speaking, we need someone else and she's asking, _please_ , she already feels so guilty about it–"

"Why doesn't she ask me herself then?" I said.

"You think she hasn't tried?" Roxanne asked, a tear rolling down her face. "Jesus, Fred, you've refused to talk to anyone! This is already hard enough."

"I hope you realise I've got nothing prepared, and nothing to say for that matter."

"You can say anything, it doesn't have to be long – _please_ , Fred–"

"Fine, _fine_ ," I relented, maybe only because of how she was looking at me and that I couldn't possibly abandon her anymore, but the gravity of the situation hit me as I was sitting down in the front row. Emma made to go and sit next to Libby, but I grabbed her arm and yanked her down into the chair beside me, my little sister on my other side.

"Fred–"

"Please, you have to stay with me," I pleaded. "I have to give a eulogy and I don't know what to do–"

Emma reached up and pressed her hand against my cheek. Her thumb softly stroked my skin. "It'll be ok," she reassured.

For the record, it wasn't ok. But hey, at least Emma tried, right?

I could not tell you what was said at that funeral. I couldn't focus on anything except the fear of speaking, and I barely took in anything that happened. My name had to be called twice as the next to speak after Roxanne, and Emma squeezed my knee before I shakily stood. The room was so full that there weren't enough seats to go around. People were standing around the sides, crowded at the back, trying to peer through the doors and listen to what was to be said. I had hundreds of people staring at me. Grandma Molly had been silently crying since before the funeral had even started. I don't think she'd ever expected to out-live another one of her children. Every one of my family member's faces were drawn, stressed and it was all thanks to …

"My dad, everyone," I began bitterly, gesturing vaguely to the coffin behind me. "That's me, the prodigal son. I was told less than twenty minutes ago that I had to give a eulogy and you know, I had no idea what to say, but now I think I do. My dad was not a happy man," My voice was shaking, but everything was coming back up, like the Firewhiskey, and I couldn't keep any of it in. "I'll be the one to say it, he was depressed! He suffered nearly every goddamned day of his life and we're all here mourning him, but the truth is he's probably happier dead. You don't have to pretend to live anymore, Dad!" I added in a yell. My eyes were swimming and I think I heard a roaring somewhere, although it might've been the muttering of the crowd. "You saw your chance and you took it, huh? You didn't think twice did you, you didn't even think about the people you _fucking left behind_!"

"Fred–" my sister's timid voice suddenly chimed in, but I turned.

"NO! You wanted me to speak, so I'm speaking!" I yelled at her. "Everyone's up here talking about how great my dad was and yeah, they're probably right! But they've forgotten that they're also talking about a man who could've fought it, could have fought to live, only he didn't! He just gave up in the end, and left behind a wife, a son and a daughter who miss him and need him, and you didn't even think about that for one second! You just GAVE UP and I didn't even tell you I loved you when I should have, and I never will now because all you cared about was seeing your dead brother again! Well, CONGRATULATIONS, you did it!" I suddenly reached out and grabbed the smiling framed photo of George Weasley and threw it into the ground as hard as I could. Several people gasped as it smashed and I yelled, "FUCK YOU, DAD!"

Then, I stormed out.

* * *

She found me, of course.

"Go away!"

"No–"

"Emma, get off–!"

"No, it's ok – IT'S OK!" Emma shouted at me. I'd shoved my way roughly through the crowd out into the July sunshine and into the trees decorating the front of the funeral home. Luckily, everyone who was stuck outside seemed more interested in listening to the rest of the funeral than watching me fuck up and break down. I didn't know when the tears had started, but they ripped from my chest and shit, shit, _shit_ , I hated my dad so much –

"It's ok, Fred …" Emma was whispering, her hands suddenly there and holding my face as I cried. "It hurts, it sucks, but it's gonna be ok …"

"How – how could he leave me, Emma?" I choked out, holding onto her hands, forehead pressed to hers. "How could he–?"

"He loved you."

"You don't know–"

"He was your father, of course I know," Emma said. I could barely breathe, but I looked up and noticed that she had started crying with me. "It's ok to be mad at him, it's ok to be sad, you don't have to pretend you don't care like you have done ever since you came home from the hospital … it's ok to cry."

My voice broke. "I miss him."

"I know," Emma whispered.

She let go of my face to hug me and I wrapped my arms round her neck, unable to stop from sobbing into her shoulder. I couldn't ever remember crying like this, I don't think I ever had. It was pain and guilt and the fact that I would literally never see him again. I wasn't given a chance to say goodbye, I wasn't warned at all, he was just taken away from me. Despite all I'd said, _he was my dad_ , and damn it, I wanted my dad! I couldn't breathe. My chest ached every time I sobbed. My head pounded from crying so much, but I couldn't do a thing about it except hold onto Emma. My somehow amazing Emma who'd stayed next to me despite my shittiness and the way I'd treated her …

We ended up missing the end of the service, but I didn't care. By the time I could control myself once more, everyone was filing out into the sun, holding their little paper pamphlets that read _George Weasley, 1978 – 2031_ and wearing sorrowful expressions. Several people glanced over at me, staring and muttering, but I couldn't give a fuck what they thought. Well … except for one person, maybe.

"Mum?" I asked.

I sought her out through the crowd. Angelina Weasley had seen better days, definitely, but at least she suited black. I'd basically been avoiding her ever since Dad had died. I don't even know why … maybe I hadn't wanted to find out if she'd had the same thoughts that I had, that she also thought Dad had just given in, that he'd wanted to die in the end, knowingly left her. But it was clear when my mum turned around and looked at me that she didn't care about that at all.

"Oh, Fred," she said before storming forward and hugging me fiercely. I held on tightly, muttering that I was sorry into her shoulder but Mum just shook her head. "Fred, Fred, I know that it hurts, you don't need to apologise for what you said," she told me, pulling back so that she could see my face and stroke my fringe out of my eyes. "We're … everyone's going to the Burrow. Later we'll come – come and – collect him–" Mum tried to give me a brave smile. "Are you coming?"

"I s'pose," I muttered. I glanced behind me without thinking, and Mum caught who I was looking at straight away.

"Erm, hi?" Emma had no choice but to step forward and acknowledge my mother.

"You must be Emma," Mum said, letting me go so that she could shake Emma's hand warmly. "Thank you for coming."

"It's fine – it's nice to meet you – of course I wish it was under better circumstances … _bollocks_ ," Emma muttered, but Mum just gave her a sad smile.

"Thank you," she told her.

"For what?"

"For taking care of my son," Mum said simply. "He doesn't like to admit it, but he does need someone every now and then."

"… no problem," Emma answered.

* * *

A/N: Sooooo uhhhh... yeeeeah.

Good lord, I am so sorry. Quite honestly, I've had this planned for a LONG time. Ever since reading Deathly Hallows, I've always thought that George would die relatively young, because it just wouldn't be fair on him otherwise, and I always knew he would die at some point during this story. But our dear Fred just did NOT handle it well and I might've cried at points. This chapter was hard to write, trust me.

I know all of you probably hate me now, but um, please let me know what you think?

I love yall,  
Moon. xoxo

PS. TOTAL fluke that I have somehow managed to get this out so quickly (most of it was already written) I apologise that I don't know when the next chapter will be ready, but know it will definitely happen eventually! x


	33. That one time I went home

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 33: That one time I went home.

After the funeral, Rose threw a party.

I know that sounds like a stupid idea, but I actually really appreciated it. I'd left Emma talking to my mother as people were still milling around after the funeral, and I hadn't quite been quite sure what the hell I was doing. Rose must have noticed, because she had walked straight up to me and said, "I'm gonna have free booze and loud music at my place, get your arse there if you want in. Tell Emma, bitch."

So we were there within half an hour.

I mean, it wasn't really a party as it was just 30 odd people casually strewn around Rose and Scorpius' flat, drinking our body weights in alcohol, but the atmosphere was right. The lights were low, the base was thumping in my chest, and everyone sat together, laughing and yelling out to each other over the music. Rose and Scorpius weren't normally overly affectionate in public, but Rose sat in his lap in an armchair, her face pale as she grinned and Scorpius' arms around her slightly too tight. Al and Bea were there, sat side by side on the floor, sharing a bottle of wine. Libby had apparently let James have this one, and my best friend was already drunk as fuck when we arrived, finding him lying on the coffee table and attempting to sing along with the music.

Rose's parties normally included her crazy mates, but as I looked around the room, I noticed more and more of our family as well, or at least more than there usually was. I shouldn't have been surprised, but when you see cousin Lucy, of all people, overindulging on gin and tonics at a party, you can't help but be amazed a little. Dom was stuffing crisps into her mouth as she debated with one of Rose's friends, while Molly just drank silently by herself in the corner. Hell, even Louis was there, and I don't think I've actually spoken to Louis in over a year.

The party didn't pause when we walked in, but I noticed the looks. This was a party for the family, for the cousins who'd lost an uncle and suddenly, I wasn't sure I wanted to be there at all. I noticed that Roxanne wasn't, but Emma pulled me forward and I followed her anyway. "Fred!" Rose called out happily, staggering to her feet to run over and throw her arms around me. I let her hold on for probably a few seconds more than she usually would. "I'm glad you came!"

"Yeah, yeah, where's the free alcohol?"

"Well, when I said 'free alcohol' I actually meant the wine's in the fridge," Rose admitted. "but if you want something stronger, I swear this is about 90% vodka!" She held up the plastic bottle in her hands, the contents of which had clearly been mixed with just a smidge of orange juice.

"Fuckin' sold, Rosie," I grabbed it off her, immediately throwing some back.

"Is this night gonna end in the bathtub again?" Emma asked me.

I glanced down at her as Rose moved on to talk to someone else, apparently forgetting the plastic bottle of vodka that I still held. We were all still wearing black. No, I probably shouldn't be drinking at all, if last night and today were any indicators of what was clearly my fragile mental health at the moment, but I ceased to give a fuck. The only thing that nearly stopped me was the look on Emma's face, but that was when she swiped the bottle out of my hands and drank too.

"Fine," she said, gasping from how strong Rose had mixed it. "We'll both end up in the bathtub."

"See, that's how you find out who your real mates are."

Emma just scoffed and moved further into the party. I stuck close to her side, as stares were starting to intensify. It was probably because of how I'd yelled at the funeral in front of everyone. They all knew that I was a mess right now, everyone knew I had apparently gone crazy and normally I wouldn't care what anyone else thought, but … I shared Rose's vodka with Emma and mostly avoided talking.

I was having trouble trying to figure out whether Dad would be ashamed of me or not.

On the one hand, Dad knew how it felt to lose someone. He'd lived most of his life like that. He would have known better than anyone how I was feeling and I liked to think he'd be ok with how I'd acted at the funeral. He would say it was ok to scream and smash things and cry because you're hurting. Everyone handles it different, and I was just trying to figure out my own way … but on the other hand, I'd blamed him. I still blamed him. I'd yelled in front of everyone that it was his fault, that he'd seen his chance and taken it, that being with his dead brother was more important than staying with his alive children. I hated him about as much as I loved him, and I hated myself even more for that because I knew how he must have felt. Ironic that I could only possibly know after he was gone. I could understand why he might just take the easy way out, if the opportunity presented itself.

If a train was heading straight for me right now, I wasn't entirely sure I'd jump out of the way in time.

A loud burst of laughter suddenly interrupted the thoughts running through my head. Disconnected didn't even begin to describe things, but Emma was next to me and I slung an arm around her shoulders without thinking. She had always been able to ground me. She didn't stop laughing at the others, but I felt her squeeze my knee tightly.

"I'm sorry, but when the FUCK did you ever get naked in public?" Dom was asking loudly, and amazingly it was Al who answered her,

"I was like 12 or something, that bastard stole my clothes–" He gestured to James still lying on the coffee table, currently laughing his arse off. "But that doesn't matter, we said no explaining! No context, or we'll be here forever."

"Fine, then it's your turn."

Al deliberated. From his next words, I realised that apparently, everyone had struck up a game of 'I have never' while I hadn't been listening. Because you know, secrets and drinking games were clearly a good combination right now. "All right. I have never been arrested."

I hadn't been paying attention 'til now, so I wasn't sure whether to play or not. Molly drank of course, while I turned to Emma and asked, "Does getting dragged away from someone else who's being arrested count?"

Emma looked a little startled at my sudden interaction, but she shook her head. "Nah, you're not behind bars just yet."

"I'll do my best not to get there."

"As if," Emma smiled as Bea next to Al took up her turn.

"I have never broken a bone."

"Aw, c'mon!" Dom complained as several others groaned. "That's boring!"

"Well, I haven't!"

"Uncle George would be ashamed. Where are all the embarrassing sex questions, guys?"

Something stabbed me as everyone else piped up and agreed. Apparently getting drunk and having fun for a night was the preferred way to forget about everything, but I hadn't quite been expecting it. I clenched the plastic bottle that was still in my hands, suddenly determined to properly join in. My dad would have asked the most embarrassing questions, and like hell was I gonna disappoint. James was next, although it took him several goes to actually say something.

"I've never – neverrrrrr, uhhh …" He nearly fell off the coffee table as he tried to look around for inspiration. "Sex question? I've never had sex, there yerrr go."

"You might want to ask something that narrows it down next time, but ok," Dom grumbled as I think everyone was forced to drink. I had a rather narrowed view of the room, but I think I knew everyone here and I didn't think there would be anyone who wasn't drinking.

A friend of Scorpius' was next, Lucy Harley. I hadn't expected to see her here since it was common knowledge that she and Rose didn't like each other in any sense of the phrase. Although … I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd pushed it all aside for today. She certainly got the ball rolling by saying, "I have never had a threesome."

Oh, dear.

Significantly less people drank this time. If I could have gotten away with pretending that I still wasn't playing I might've just ignored it, but I'd answered the last few, so I forced myself to drink. Emma just snickered next to me and said, "Don't worry, I figure if a sex question comes up there won't be much you haven't done."

"You make me sound like a slut."

"Aren't you?"

"Well, I _was_ …" I muttered.

Sophie's turn was next, and her question was thankfully a lot tamer ("I have never been overseas,") but afterwards it was fair game as the raunchier questions started getting asked. I'm pretty sure a lot of people lied at 'I've never done anal' (thank you, Dom, for that one) and there were several red faces at 'I have never had someone walk in on me having sex' (which led to wondering who the hell had walked in on whom in THIS family). Trevor Moyle asked, "Feel totally free to lie if you're not comfortable answering this, but I have never had sex with someone of the same gender," which led to a few people asking for clarification.

"Does it have to be sex?" Toby asked him. "Because I'm pretty sure I've at least kissed a bloke before."

"Nah, nah, only counts if it was sex!"

Dom just snorted before drinking. "You literally all know I am pan as fuck, so."

I also drank and Dom grinned, leaning across the room to slap me a high-five. I didn't mind answering, but it didn't surprise me that we were the only ones. It was personal, after all.

There ended up being a lot of complaining when Scorpius asked next, "I have never slept with someone else in this room – _what?_ " he added at the groaning.

"Mate, your WIFE is sitting on you," Harley pointed out, exasperatedly.

"I can still drink at my own question," Scorpius pointed out. "But let's face it, we're a small group, so there's gotta be some stories in here that we don't already know about."

Faces glanced around as the obvious drank and some of the others were surely blatantly lying. Literally everyone knew about me and Emma, so I wasn't too shook up drinking, and while I noticed some pointed looks between those who were clearly in the know and were silently calling others out, no crazy revelations were revealed, so we all moved on. Rose's question was next and I braced myself for whatever the hell might come out of her mouth, but surprisingly, she went a bit more emotional.

"I have never been in love."

Fuck.

"Rosie–" Dom cried out.

" _I can drink at my own question!_ " she insisted much like Scorpius had. "But I figure there's some people in here who might not have, and I want to find out."

Thank you, dear cousin, because I'm pretty sure my heart was gonna explode right out of me.

Yes, I'd been in love. Was. Still am. And Emma knew that too, but technically, I didn't remember such a statement in Emma's eyes. I knew she had been in love before, but I still didn't know what to do here. Do I just lie? No, she would know I was lying and would call me out in an instant. But if I drank I was acknowledging it, because lord fucking knows that everyone in this room knew if I'd ever been in love, there was only one possible candidate as to who that person could be. _Don't look at her, mate!_

I turned and caught Emma's eye next to me. As if on cue, we both drank at the same time.

… god, what did I just fucking do.

A couple of sly glances were thrown our way, but luckily the game carried on like normal, the questions steadily becoming worse as the more alcohol was consumed. I didn't know how Emma was handling me like this. I mean, I didn't know how I was handling me like this, but Emma had surely dealt with enough shit to last her a lifetime! I didn't … I didn't deserve her in the slightest. I wanted to keep her next to me, hold her tighter, but I was afraid that if I did that, I might end up strangling her. Without thinking, I pulled back the arm that was around her shoulders. If she thought it was in response to the question, I apologised in my head. I apologised for a lot of things. It's all I ever do, these days.

Eventually, I ended up slipping away from the party without anyone noticing. The game had dissolved when it became clear that no one had enough clarity to keep everyone on track anymore and the party had burst into several loud conversations at once. Emma was talking to Rose, which had to be a damn sight better than talking to me anyway, so I used the opportunity to say I was going to get another drink, but instead managed to duck outside.

I didn't really know where I wanted to go. I hadn't been able to use the fireplace to get away as everyone definitely would have noticed that, but I didn't trust myself to Apparate in this state. So I just … walked. I left the building, shoved my hands into my pockets and just kept walking through the streets.

Somewhere, my brain recognised the danger of me doing this. I mean, Fulham was a relatively safe area of London, but I'd had to bury my father today (well, not bury, but I couldn't bring myself to use the term 'say goodbye') and I knew from experience that I didn't end up ok when I was alone. It was stupid of me to purposefully isolate myself like this, but I couldn't keep making Emma take care of me anymore. She had her own life, she was her own person, she didn't ask for any of this ( _you didn't either_ , a voice in my head whispered). If I've ever needed someone before, it was nothing in comparison to how much I needed that woman right now, but I didn't _want_ to need her. I shouldn't have to. No one should have to live with that burden, live with the idea that if they weren't around, I probably would have gone and done something dangerously stupid by now. Maybe this WAS me doing something dangerously stupid?

Don't care. Emma doesn't deserve me.

Really, there was only one other person in this world who could possibly understand what I was feeling, and she definitely wasn't back at that party. I wasn't entirely sure where my sister had gone, although it was possible that she was at the Burrow. The family seemed to have split into two levels of mourning: the older generation, and the younger, but Roxanne and I didn't seem to fit into either category. We were the children who's dad was dead.

It was reckless, but I suddenly wanted desperately to find my sister. I said to hell with all Apparition rules and instead just focused on her face. As soon as I reappeared in a field next to a low stone wall, the effects of travelling inter-dimensionally suddenly caught up with me, and I found myself hastily leaning over the wall, throwing up into the grass.

"Holy shit!" Roxanne's voice rang out. "Fred–?"

I couldn't answer. I could only let the alcohol come back up. I didn't have much hair for my sister to hold back, but she rested her hands on my shoulders, rubbed my back. She didn't have to say anything. Eventually, I was left gasping as I slumped over the wall, and she offered a sleeve without needing to say a word.

"C'mon," she muttered, standing back up from her knees and pulling me up.

She'd apparently been sitting on the rough bricks a few feet further down the wall. She sat me down and I helplessly stared out at the large field in front of us. I realised belatedly that I recognised it as being the field behind the Burrow. Dad's ashes were going to be spread here.

"Has he–?"

"Mum said we would do it tomorrow," Roxanne answered.

If she looked like hell, I could only imagine what I resembled.

"I went to Rose's," I said, voice shaking a little. "but I …"

"Had to get out?"

"I probably shouldn't have Apparated."

"Clearly," Roxanne wrinkled her nose at me. "How much have you had?"

"Too much and not enough at the same time, somehow."

"I hear ya," Roxanne sat back further on the wall, hands gripping the stone as she watched the field rippling in the night breeze. "Everyone is piss drunk back there. Mum passed out an hour ago, apparently. If you listen closely, you can still hear them singing."

"Not much different at Rose's. Why didn't you come?"

"I don't … I haven't wanted to be around people much," Roxanne glanced at me. "I've been out here all night."

I winced a little. "I can go …"

"No," Roxanne reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "For some reason, your face doesn't make me so mad anymore."

I tried to smile at her, though it probably just turned out like a grimace. "How do you handle not being around people?" I found myself asking.

"I don't want anyone watching me," Roxanne let her fingers trail down lifelessly, looking back to the field. "I've always given up too much of myself. I let in anybody, I say too much, and to all the wrong people. I don't want anyone to know what I'm going through."

"Roxie …" I sighed. Surely she'd learnt that from me. I'd forever harped on about her never having any sense of dignity, always throwing herself out on the line for anyone to come and trample on. But she'd never been afraid of letting in people before. Roxanne was someone who knew how to communicate, knew how to reach out to people. "None of that's a bad thing …"

"You wanna know how many blokes I was talking to before Dad died?" Roxanne snapped back. "Three. At once. I didn't genuinely like any of them, but that didn't stop me, did it?"

"At least you're not scared of getting to know someone," I insisted. "Roxie, you don't have to change yourself because of–"

"Thing is, it's not just dating," She shifted closer, casually leaning her head against my shoulder. "Dad's gone now and I've just realised that I actually don't have any friends to talk to about it. I have flatmates, I have my colleagues at work, but turns out I just pour out everything and don't offer anything in return. No one wants to hear me because I'm so one-sided. I've only ever cared about myself."

"You haven't."

"Don't fight me, Fred–"

"Look, at least you express what you're feeling," I told her, furiously. "You aren't afraid to say what's on your mind. You're not afraid to make connections and to reach out to people. Yeah, maybe you're a little self-centred about it, but it comes from a good place, and I think you've probably got more friends than you realise. You say you don't have anyone to talk to – have you let anyone actually try? Or have you just isolated yourself so you can't be disappointed?"

Roxanne was silent for a moment. I wasn't sure she was going to say anything in response until I heard her sob slightly against my shoulder and I moved my arm, wrapping it around her. They weren't the heart-wrenching sobs of when we'd first reconnected, but just … sad. Despondent. She'd given up somewhere along the lines, but like hell was that my sister.

"I'm the one who's always been afraid," I muttered.

"You haven't run away like I have," Roxanne cried.

"I have run away so many times I've lost count," I countered. "I'm scared of anyone knowing me too well. For years I never even had friends, I only let myself have James. Before I met Emma, I never let anyone get close. I'm terrified of that kind of emotion, that it'll only hurt me in the end, and I shoved it away. Kinda the opposite of you, I guess."

"We make quite the pair."

"I've been afraid of being alone ever since this blew up," I admitted. "When I'm alone, I spiral. I nearly drank an entire bottle of Firewhiskey by myself yesterday."

"Fred," Roxanne pulled back, rubbing at her eyes. She clearly remembered me throwing up earlier as she said, aghast, "you're gonna kill yourself if you keep doing that."

I know, Roxie.

But I tightened my arm around her, pulled her in closer. I knew, and I didn't know whether or not I was using Dad as my role model. He'd survived after losing someone. He didn't take the easy way out, he fought, he lived, he survived. He had a family, he watched them grow, but then his time had seemed to be up. Had he fought to live in the end? I'd literally never know. A part of me determinedly thought _no, he left you, everyone always leaves in the end_. If he could eventually let himself go like that, then surely I could too, no one could blame me –

But I had Emma. I had James and Libby and Clara and my sister and so far they were stopping any serious or conscious thoughts of drinking slightly too much.

"I won't."

" _Promise me_."

"I promise," I said into my sister's hair. "I just … don't know how to act anymore. I'm angry. I'm sad, I've spent so long ignoring feelings when they come that I really don't know what to do anymore."

"You haven't spoken about it yet, have you?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

Roxanne gave a muffled snort of laughter. "How's Emma been throughout all this?"

"I … don't really know," I admitted.

I'd thought I'd known, but when I considered Roxanne's question, I realised that I'd really just been assuming this entire time. I kept saying that Emma didn't deserve this, shouldn't have to deal with me, and no maybe she didn't, but the truth was I had no idea what she actually thought. Emma was fierce, Emma was dedicated and I knew that she would drop everything at once to help someone. I loved her now more than ever.

"That girl," Roxanne said. "is the best fuckin' thing that's ever happened to you, bro."

"Don't I know it."

"Sometimes I'm kinda jealous."

"Of what?" I scoffed at her.

"That you found that!" Roxanne said. "It's all I've ever wanted. I want the husband, the kids, and the lazy Sunday mornings. It's cliché but I don't care. I want all that shit and you managed to get it all without even trying."

I didn't really know what to say to her in response. _I don't want that either … it's not as easy as your think … it'll happen when it happens, Roxie …_ all of it sounded trite, ridiculous. Nothing would assure her. I instead came out with,

"Roxie, I didn't want it and that was ok. You do want it and that's ok, too. But I refused to even entertain the idea that I might change my mind someday, so I dunno."

"You think I'll change my mind too?"

"I don't mean _that_ ," I sighed. "Like … just be open to it. Your life is complete with or without someone else in it. You're still Roxie … you're still my sister."

"Dad's never gonna be at my wedding," she mused.

"He's never gonna see me become an Auror," I agreed.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah …" I said. "me, too."

Suddenly, there were sounds of distant yells and crashing coming down from the Burrow. The two of us turned and listened as apparently, the grown up party started disbursing, someone calling out about getting home while others just incoherently yelled back.

" _Yeah, Hermione's spewing!_ " the unmistakable voice of Aunt Ginny cried out and everyone replied with raucous cheers.

"I think we should probably go and make sure no one passes out in a pool of their own vomit," I mentioned.

"Thanks for that image," Roxanne said.

* * *

I ended up collapsed face-down on my sofa. My flat was empty and I didn't like it, but I didn't have the strength to face Rose's party again. After Roxanne and I spent the last hour hauling our drunk relatives back inside so they could crash in relative safety, I'd just Flooed back home. It was reminiscent of when I'd first come home from the hospital, my head fucking spinning, but this time no Emma waiting for me. I was unconscious within minutes, though, so that was probably a good thing.

I didn't know how long exactly it had been when I woke up, but it was because someone's hand was on my back, gently pushing me awake. Emma's voice whispered in the darkness. "Hey. Come to bed. This sofa won't do you any good."

It had been a long day, so I didn't bother try and come up with a response, just let her drag me up and into our proper bed. I didn't even take my funeral clothes off. By the time I was waking up in the morning, it was two nights in a row I'd gotten drunk, and my brain did not like me for it one bit. I moaned, rubbing my forehead, only for a hand to reach out across my body and pick up the glass of water on the night stand next to me.

"Drink the whole thing," Emma insisted.

I did. I placed the glass back, almost surprised that Emma was awake before I was. Normally I was the first to stir, what with being used to keeping strange hours and waking up at a moment's notice. This morning, however, I rolled over and noticed that Emma's eyes were definitely open, watching me with barely concealed worry.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"You say that too much," she whispered back. "It's ok."

"It's not," I gently ran a thumb against the line of her face, running down her jaw. "I'm a wreck and it's scaring you."

"You're allowed to be a wreck," Emma said.

"I'm not allowed to hurt you, though."

"You haven't," Emma grabbed the hand at her face, clutched it tightly between both of hers. "Don't think for a second that I don't want to be here."

I hadn't cried since breaking down at the funeral. I think that was the only time I had ever cried at all, but listening to Emma now, my eyes were suddenly stinging and I blinked furiously. I didn't want her to have to see me like this, but I didn't want her to leave either. She didn't say anything, just let me fight it until I couldn't anymore. She didn't move a muscle until I let go of her hand and wrapped myself around her. I knew I had to talk at some point. I knew that Emma and I had our own issues that we'd slowly been working on before this mess had ever hit, but for now I just wept into her hair.

The days blended together from there.

At some points, I really couldn't have told you actually how long it had been since my dad had died. Things just kept happening around me. I knew it was least a week, maybe two, and I knew that on the outside, it would at least look like I was dealing ok. I was getting out of bed in the mornings. I was doing shit. I wasn't technically on leave anymore, but I think my boss felt sorry for me or something, because barely any cases made it my way and if they did, it was something so simple Emma's brother could have done it (not that I ever mentioned that to her, but still). I spent my days at the shop, mostly. It had closed for several days over the funeral, but it was opened again by Uncle Ron, who was now pouring his heart into the shop that he had just inherited.

I remember Roxanne came over for dinner at one point. Just her, Emma and me. I don't think Emma had expected it, but she'd welcomed my sister with open arms anyway (literally, she'd squeezed the life out of her). I think I'd spoken to Roxanne more the last couple weeks than I had our entire lives, which had to be saying something. I mean, she wasn't ok either. We had spread Dad's ashes together with Mum and she had cried a lot, but I'd held her up and now, she at least looked like she was trying. It was more than could be said about me.

The fucking media had a field day with the story and at work, I'd accidentally caught a glimpse of a newspaper someone had left on their desk. The headline had read, _GEORGE WEASLEY FUNERAL: 'WE ARE DEVESTATED'_. Before I could even think, I'd realised that I had suddenly reached out and thrown the damn thing halfway across the room.

I'd had to ignore a lot of stares that day.

A lot of the family was avoiding me, I was pretty sure. Roxanne spoke of our cousins coming to see her, inviting her to hang out, offering her places to stay if she wanted, but I barely saw anyone. "I'm trying," I'd said helplessly to Emma one morning. "Aren't I?"

She'd put on a smile and said, "Of course."

Life really had just come to a screaming halt.

The next thing I knew, our birthdays had hit.

I woke up to Emma literally jumping on our bed overtop of me. "Wake up!" she cried. "It's our birthdays!"

I genuinely wanted to smile at her enthusiasm and I hoped she didn't think it was forced when I did. She jumped down, landing on top of me and I let out a grunt as her weight hit. "Happy birthday, old man," she grinned, her legs straddling my hips.

"Happy birthday, old lady," I said back. "I didn't realise it was the 10th already."

"Sure is! And I've got a present for ya, oh my god, hold on–"

I watched in amusement as Emma practically launched herself across the bedroom to the washing basket that hosted all her clothes underneath my desk. I'd barely had time to move before she was whipping something out and climbing back on top of me. There was no real reason for her to, but I liked having her weight there and wasn't about to complain. She paused a moment, but then held out the envelope she held in her hands. "For you."

"Gee. I don't deserve this," I mentioned, taking it.

"Shut up and open it."

I did. I had no idea what to expect, as I pulled out and unfolded the papers that were inside. I read the first page, my eyes widening a little at the apparent coupon I held in my hands. "Is this …?"

"I got Lily to do me a solid," Emma was a little hesitant now as she gauged my reaction, but she still proudly added, "Us girls gotta stick together! Those coupons are for a hotel on the Cornwall coast, in Newquay I think. They don't expire and the only thing we gotta do in return is let Lily interview us when we get back so she can write a travel piece on it."

"You got me a … a holiday for my birthday?"

"I've still never been on holiday," Emma shrugged.

"Oh, so really it's a present for you?" I smirked.

"Well, it's my birthday, too!" Emma smacked me on the chest. "But, um … yeah. I hope you like it. I don't know if you ever even want to go sometime, but um–"

I sat up, dropping the envelope and coupons onto the bed. Emma seemed a little startled but I wrapped her up in a hug before she could say anything.

"I think I'd like to go sometime," I murmured. "Thank you."

She wound her arms around my neck. "You're welcome," she said.

We stayed there together a while. I've never been a cuddly person, we all know that, but this went beyond just holding her. I think it was the first time we'd been this physically close for any reason other than providing comfort lately. While I'd needed her arms the last several days, I don't think we'd even so much as kissed since before Dad died and I wondered if she was feeling it. So far I'd reached out only at the exact wrong times, and she'd rightfully told me no. Would she still say no now? I wasn't ok, but this was my birthday, _our birthdays_ , goddamn it, and I couldn't let Dad stop me from enjoying it, I utterly refused to …

"Do you want your present?" I asked her.

Quite honestly, I didn't exactly have a proper one prepared. But it was something I'd been thinking about recently and would have done properly sometime soon anyway, had I been in the right headspace. "You didn't have to–" Emma began at once, but I rolled my eyes, gently pushing her off me so I could stand up. She crossed her legs, adorably watching me as she sat in the middle of our bed. I went and dragged out one of the drawers from the set that sat next to the wardrobe door. "What on earth–?" Emma asked in bewilderment as I dumped out whatever was inside it onto the floor.

"This," I held out the empty drawer. "this is your present."

"A … drawer?"

"Well, maybe several of them," I said, glancing back at the chest of drawers. "I mean, you've got a lot of shit."

I almost thought Emma was gonna cry.

"The drawer's for me to put my stuff in?"

I swallowed anxiously, but nodded, putting down the empty drawer in my hands so that I could start to move over to the washing basket under my desk. "I mean, I don't fucking know really, it's probably stupid but–"

Emma practically hurled herself off the bed. I caught her hastily, her legs clamping around my waist as she kissed me fiercely. _Fucking Jesus._ I made some kind of unholy noise as she wrapped her fists into my shirt, opened herself up deep. I hadn't realised how much I'd missed her until she was suddenly there. She was all here, her hot mouth on mine, and shit, I remembered. An arm spread up over her back, fingers tangling in her hair, the other desperate to get at her skin. She knew how to strike hard, and was playing it all kinds of right. Several minutes were spent just standing there devouring each other, until she rather abruptly pulled back.

"Shit–" she gasped, her forehead touching mine. "I didn't mean to–"

"Emma," I kept my eyes closed. "It's ok. Y'know, if you don't want–"

"No. No, fuck, I want," she cut in, practically sighing. Good lord. "I want so badly, but I'm not gonna let sex become a coping mechanism, seriously, Fred."

"That first night would have been," I admitted. "and maybe it would now as well if I was in a different mood, _but Emma_ ," I kissed her neck, trailing down to that collar bone I knew she liked. I didn't bother finish off the point I was trying to make, she would get it. We couldn't let sex become non-existent either. Life was shitty, but this made it decidedly less shitty. My teeth scraped maybe a little too hard, but Emma made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

"Yeeeeeah …" she gasped out. "Ok."

We hit the mattress, her lips crushed against mine.

("For the record, I love the drawer," she mentioned much later).

* * *

I was going to enjoy myself.

 _I was going to enjoy myself._

This was going to happen every bloody year from now on. I was always gonna remember Dad dying just over a week before my birthday. I wasn't going to let it stop me. I wasn't ever going to let Dad's ghost fuck up mine or Emma's birthdays.

… except it was apparently happening already.

"I'm so sorry, Fred," Rose winced, probably at the look on my face when I had come round to confirm whether Saturday's upcoming shindig was still ok to throw. "We got noise complaints after the last party, apparently some of the residents around here have hit their last nerves. We've gotta hold off for a while, at least."

"What the fuck did you guys do to finally get noise complaints?" I asked in amazement. We'd been churning up a storm in that building for the last seven years, how they'd only just gotten shut down was beyond me.

"Mate, you were there, weren't you?" Rose pointed out.

Actually no, I'd bailed because my dad was dead and Roxanne was the only who got it, but I didn't want to tell Rose that. My cousin was still pale, her freckles standing out even more than normal and I guess I hadn't really thought about how anyone else in the family was handling this until now. I still couldn't really at this point, but I lied for Rose's sake anyway, "Yeah, but I don't exactly remember a lot."

"It got a bit crazy," Rose said. "Let's just say the hallway outside became a runway of sorts."

"Christ."

"Yeah, that's what the neighbours thought too," Rose said. "I'm so sorry, Fred. I'm sure people will still come if you change where it is?"

"No, it _has_ to be in this building."

"What the hell is your plan, Fred?" Rose raised an eyebrow.

"I'm one of your Idiot Twins, right?" I asked. "Probably something stupid, but oh well."

"Am I gonna get evicted for it?"

"Noooooo! … _well_ ," I added.

" _Fred._ "

"I promise, it'll be great!" I insisted. "It's fine, we'll just have a party later when your neighbours like you again. Really, it's ok."

"Sometimes you really do make me fear for Emma's life," Rose shook her head, before moving forward and hugging me tightly. I hadn't anticipated it and her arms immediately felt choking. I don't know why anyone other than Emma or Roxanne was too painful to be physically close to, but I didn't want to hurt Rose by suddenly pulling away. I forced myself to hold her hug for at least five seconds before pulling back. It was a little ungracious and I think I hurt her slightly anyway, but she would be ok.

She hadn't lost a parent.

I guess I felt weird and unsettled. Like everything had been thrown slightly out of line. I didn't know how I was supposed to be feeling most of the time, even though I'm sure Roxanne would tell me that there was no right way of feeling. Sometimes I was ok, like when I had Emma wrapped around me. Blimey, her face when I'd pulled out that drawer … I hadn't expected that at all. I should have done it way sooner than now, but at least I was getting there. So many things had been getting there until this shit …

Then there were those times. When I'd remember, when I'd feel it descend like a cloud or rise up like water choking me until I couldn't breathe, could barely think. Emma's face was the only thing that got me through it. I really didn't know how to handle what I felt, I didn't know whether I was angry or grieving or whether the two were mixing together, but I just … I just wanted him back.

It was my birthday and I wanted him here. I wanted him to send me a stupid card and sing 'happy birthday' loud and off-key. I wanted to get a dumb joke present from him that had clearly just been picked off a shelf in aisle three. I wanted him to see me complain about getting old. I wanted him to watch me grow up. I wanted him to be here so that he could watch Roxanne get married someday. I wanted to finally let him get to know Emma, I suddenly had so many things I wanted to ask him that I'd never dreamed of doing when he was alive, like _how do you survive? I'm sorry. I'm a useless son, you died thinking your children hated each other, I'm sorry that one of the last things you probably heard was me screaming …_

"Ok, so MAYBE no party just yet," I was saying as we walked down the street.

"Does it really have to be in Rose's building?"

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY YES?"

" _Fine_ ," Emma huffed. "So what exactly are we doing, then?"

I hesitated a little to explain that. The town was the same as ever, the Muggle shops all packed in together spreading out from the small square, the roads thin and the people lively in the shitty summer weather. Look, I could face that a party probably wasn't the best thing for me now anyway, so upon coming home from Rose's, I'd thrown Emma's shoes at her and yelled, "C'mon, Princess! I got an idea!"

And we'd ended up here. Emma tugged on my hand that she held, so I threw out my other arm wide.

"Welcome to Hitchin!"

"I'm sorry, you've dragged me _where?_ "

"Market town, we're about an hour north of London," I said. "Population next to none, but then again, this is one of the larger towns in this area. Roxie and I used to hate it."

"Are you tryna tell me that this is where you grew up?" Emma was clearly trying to contain her amusement.

"I've seen where you grew up," I shrugged a little, tugging her along once more down the main street. "and you were so excited about the idea of a holiday that I figured this could be a teaser. Not that there's much to do here," I glanced around at the hairdressers, the boutiques – this place wasn't even big enough for any main department chain stores.

"I don't care! Where are we goin'?"

"The park. It's just up the road here, it's basically where the cool kids hang out, or at least it used to be."

Hitchin hadn't really been a bad place to grow up, no matter how much I might complain about it, though. The park down the road began on the corner of a small roundabout. The gates opened up into a wide grassy reserve that was unfortunately terribly familiar. I used to play in this park during the summer, usually with James or some of the other kids from the town. The grass stretched up in a steep hill in front of us, the path winding up through the families picnicking, teenagers hanging in clumps and the large group of kids who somehow still managed to kick a football around on the gradient. "Come on!" I yanked on Emma's arm and hauled her up after me.

Near the top of the park hill, there were several benches that overlooked the town. Trees dotted the area up here until it gave way to the bush behind us. By sheer luck, the bench that I wanted was unoccupied, and we sat down, Emma red in the face and practically spluttering from the exertion. "We used to throw parties out here during the summer, usually in the trees behind us," I said. "There's this clearing in there, it was good for bonfires. I even lost my virginity on this bench."

" _Seriously?_ "

"BITCH, no," I snorted. "But do me a favour and play along if we happen to run into anyone who recognises me? Katrina actually only kissed me, but we told everyone we had sex anyway."

"Of course you did," Emma looked out over the buildings of the town at the bottom of the hill.

"Is … is this ok?" I asked.

Emma glanced back, confusion on her face. "Is what ok?"

"Bringing you here …" I'd let go of her hand to run ahead of her up the hill, only now I wasn't sure whether to take it back or not. "I know it isn't … this isn't exactly a great birthday celebration, me rambling about when I was a stupid thirteen year old."

"You were thirteen when you and Katrina told the bench-sex story?"

"That's what you took from that?" I sighed. "We were seventeen, actually, but not the point. Seriously, Emma–"

"Fred," she cut in. "this is perfect."

I scoffed and glanced away, but Emma shoved my shoulder. "Seriously!" she said. "I'm gettin' a real taste of British countryside here."

"Honey, please, this ain't even the smallest village around here," I scoffed. "Most places have two pubs and one shop at the most. Hitchin has an entire town!"

"Yeah, well, when you're from London anywhere seems small," Emma reasoned.

"You've really never been anywhere else?"

"I've told ya before, no," Emma shrugged. "We couldn't afford to go on holiday. The only places I've been outside London are visiting family up north, or travelling for work, and I haven't done much of that yet. One day! One day, I'll get an assignment overseas somewhere like – I don't know – Turkey or Greece and I'll be a part of a dig there."

"Like when Libby went to Rome?" I asked. "She was gone for an entire month, right?"

"You afraid you're gonna miss me?" Emma smirked.

Quite bluntly, yes. If she went anywhere, especially now, I would snap completely, I knew it. I was barely holding it in together as it was and the thought of her leaving left a bad taste in my mouth. Rationally, I knew it was all hypothetical – she literally wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon – but I was more than capable of imagining the struggle of living without her for months or whatever. It was stupid and possessive of me. Any other time and I would have encouraged her! I would have missed her like fuck, of course I would, but I'd have been excited for her as well. Now … I just wanted to grab her and hide her away so that no one could take her too.

But I couldn't say that. And I hated myself for thinking it.

"Pffft, whatevs Princess," I scoffed instead. "You know you'd miss me first."

"So full of himself! He never changes," Emma grinned. She glanced around us before asking, "Ok, so I gotta know: this bench. Was that kiss your first kiss?"

"Nah, not technically," I shrugged. I fought against the need to just shut my eyes, try and block everything out for a moment. "My first kiss was with _someone_ at Hogwarts, I honestly don't think I can remember a name. But Katrina was cool, it was probably the first kiss that actually counted."

Emma's eyes went wide and she grabbed at my arm. "Whoa," she said in mock astonishment. "are you telling me that you had actual _feelings_ for this girl?"

"Piss off," I said. "WEELLL … maybe. I dunno. I can't really remember. I'm not a rock, Emma!" I added, since she looked like she was about to faint. Honestly! Look, I can't really tell ya if I'd ever felt anything for Katrina – I was seventeen and it was just a summer spent hanging out with the Hitchin kids – but for a while there, I know I'd thought I had. There was a reason I'd gotten drunk with James one night and insisted that we should just never get emotionally involved with anyone, like _ever_.

Feelings scared me. What I'd felt around Katrina back then had made me run a bloody mile.

"Holy fuck," Emma was laughing. "Was she your girlfriend?"

"No! Christ, shut the fuck up," I playfully slapped her upside the head. "Ok look, if I tell you the full story, will you quit giving me shit about it? No? Whatever, I'm telling ya anyway," I grumbled. Emma hung onto my every word as I began, "Obviously my birthday was during the summer, so James and I invited a bunch of mates from town to come up here and hang out, celebrate, whatever. That's where we met. Katrina was one of the Hitchin kids, I kinda knew of her, thought she was pretty. I don't know whether I genuinely liked her or not, but I definitely thought I did at the time. I dunno … it never went anywhere," It was a dumb story, really.

"But you told everyone you had sex," Emma grinned.

"We were kids!"

"Uh-huh. So whatever happened to Katrina?"

"Beats the hell outta me. She was a Muggle, by the time I got back the next summer, she had already moved away–"

"I'm sorry – Fred Weasley?"

Emma and I both glanced up in confusion at the sound of someone calling my name. The woman in front of us had a small child clinging to her hand and a dog on a leash in the other. The Labrador was wagging its tail enthusiastically, the little boy reaching out and trying to grab it. It took me several moments, but the story I'd been telling had helped jog my memory and the recognition hit me like a train.

"Oh my god," I said. "Katrina, right?"

"Yeah! I thought I recognised you!" Katrina grinned. She gently let go of the child she was holding onto so that she could hold out her arm and I stood up, accepting the brief one-armed hug. Clearly being back here had some kind of weird coincidental properties, because I swear to god I hadn't seen this woman since I was seventeen! Being nine years older I almost hadn't realised who she was.

"Is this seriously Katrina?" Emma sounded practically beside herself with glee.

I couldn't believe this was happening, but I pointed her out as she leapt off the bench. "Uh, this is Emma," I introduced.

"Nice to meet you," Katrina smiled, offering a hand. She then gestured to the boy and dog, adding, "This is Chris and Poe the dog, I look after them. Can you say hi, buddy?" she asked, and the boy glanced up from petting his dog before shyly muttering, "Hi."

"This is legit the weirdest moment of my life," I said. "I was literally just telling the bench story."

Katrina laughed. "I haven't forgotten that. You went away for school after, I don't think I've seen you since then. Hey, sorry if it's a bit weird talking to you like this, I wasn't sure you'd remember–"

"Nah, it's fine," I said. "You're still in town, then?"

"Recently moved back," Katrina nodded. "Being a nanny for this one right now. Surely you don't still live here, I would have seen you around–"

"Nah, we live in London," I gestured vaguely to Emma next to me, who was listening to this conversation with avid attention. I realised that with the 'we' pronoun I might have just prompted Katrina to assume we were together, but I ceased to care much about that right now (besides, she wouldn't really be _wrong_ … I'll handle that later). "We actually share a birthday, so I apparently got nostalgic and brought her here. I guess it is the ninth anniversary of the bench story, after all."

"Lord, that's right – oh, happy birthday then!"

"Thanks!" Emma said delightfully for the both of us.

Katrina was all smiley and stuff, but it was as Emma politely asked her about growing up in Hitchin that I noticed the way she was looking at me. A town small as this, news got around. Merlin forbid someone from here died, because it would end up on the front page of the local newspapers for the next solid month. How often do you even notice people you haven't seen in nearly ten years? Katrina spoke happily to Emma, but she kept glancing my way and that's when I figured it out. She must've heard that George Weasley had died and wanted details. She wanted to know what had happened. Maybe I was assuming too much, maybe I really was just being paranoid and unfair, but if _I_ had spotted her, I might have laughed about it with Emma, but hastily moved along so we didn't have to do the awkward 'how are you' conversation.

Dad had known about the parties we'd thrown up here in the park. James and I would always swear we were all just hanging out together, but he'd damn well known that there was going to be music, alcohol and sex probably involved as well. He hadn't stopped us, though. He'd demand a check-in at midnight, but other than that, he'd always let us come up here. I gave him shit for being a stick in the mud who always favoured Roxanne, but only now did I really realise that he'd actually been a bloody awesome dad …

No. Fuck this.

Fuck you, Dad.

"Hey, it was great seeing you and all," I cut in, causing Emma to look at me oddly. "but sorry, we actually have to be going now. See you, Katrina!"

"… what the hell was that?" Emma hissed once I had tugged her into my side as we made our way back down the hill path. A bemused Katrina was left still standing at the top. "Fred! That was so rude–"

"I couldn't keep talking to her."

"What's your problem?" Emma huffed. She ground to a halt, digging her feet in. "Fred!"

I sighed, exasperatedly. "What d'you want me to tell you?"

"The truth!" Emma insisted. "Don't start with me, it's our birthdays. Are you ok?"

"No," I said, bluntly. "Quite frankly, I'm not bloody ok, but I wasn't about to fucking cry in front of Katrina, was I?"

I hated the look on Emma's face. _I'm sorry,_ it said, like that made anything better. But she was trying and she was right, I didn't want to do this now. I didn't want to do this at all, but Dad had given me no choice. "I just thought …" I murmured. "I thought I could have a normal birthday. I thought I could not let it get to me just this one day, but it is anyway and I don't know what to do, Emma. What if it's like this every year from now on? Everything's fucked up, we don't even get a party on Saturday, I dragged you to this stupid place instead, and I'm not just ruining my birthday, I'm ruining yours too–"

"Fred!" Emma reached out, grabbed hold of my shoulders. "Hey. It's just a day."

"But–"

"No really," she stressed. "Look, when it comes down to it, it's honestly just a day. But it will get better, I promise. Maybe not now, maybe not next year, but it eventually will, yeah? And honestly, thank you for bringing me here," Emma glanced around the park, a content look on her face. "I've loved seeing where you grew up. So shut it, ok?"

I managed to give her a smile.

"Ok."

* * *

It wasn't so bad in the end.

I finally brought Emma to that family dinner. We didn't discuss who was missing, but Mum was so fucking beside herself, I think she temporarily went insane and forgot anyway. Roxanne came over as well and we all cooked together, eating around the table in the dining room. Mum had apparently made Emma and I both pies for our birthday presents while Roxanne had thought to buy Emma some sort of weird make-up thing. "They sell them at the salon! I wasn't sure what you liked, so if you hate it, I'll get you something else–" Roxanne had begun, but Emma had just hugged my sister and told her it was fine.

Before we left for the evening, Mum hissed at me over the kitchen bench, " _That girl can stay forever, just saying_."

"BYEEEE, MUM!" I yelled in response, lest anyone hear that.

* * *

A/N: I AM TERRIBLE  
Here we are, still in heartbreak city, OH JOY. I'm not ok, so I'm betting you guys aren't either, lol. But like, thank you for not killing me after the last chapter!

Fun Fact: when I was in England, I lived in a tiny village about 20 minutes from Hitchin! It was the closest place with a bank and a supermarket, so I know the town veeeery well, haha. I have been to the park Fred and Emma visited many times, and if you want to see pictures of the bench and what the area looks like, I have posted some on tumblr (url: moonprincess92nz).

Again, so sorry that it took forever to update (explanation: Busy Life, also other fandoms are dragging me into them, kicking and screaming). I feel so bad about it, but remember I love Fremma from the bottom of my heart, forever and always, and this fic WILL eventually be finished!

Also this dumb Fred/OC fic is literally nearly at 400 comments. I'm amaze? ? ? I honestly love yall so much, I'm cryin over it. Please let me know what you think of this one!

Moon. xoxo


	34. That one time I broke down

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 34: That one time I broke down.

"Hey," Emma caught me in the middle of the kitchen, Mum and Roxanne chatting a smidge too loudly in the background. "Mum and Dad probably want me to go and see 'em, considering it's my birthday and all. Did you … I dunno whether you wanna come too or …?"

I scuffed at the kitchen floor with a foot, saying, "Aw, nah. I'll – I'll let your parents have ya for one night."

"I'm sorry, if it's–" she began hastily.

"It's not," I cut in. "Besides, it's not late yet, I was gonna see James and Libby anyway. I'll see you later, yeah?"

She managed a smile.

Look, this wasn't a terrible birthday. Honestly, it wasn't. There were a thousand ways in which it could have been better, but Emma in anyway was not one of them. She'd done enough and honestly, dinner with my mum and sister had been good. Apart from the odd embarrassing comment that Emma may or may not have heard, we'd all managed to eat together without Dad hanging over us.

It was still raw, though. Just the dinner had been enough. I couldn't handle any more parents right now, even if they were Emma's. Having already said goodbye to Mum and Roxanne, I narrowed my eyes in puzzlement when Emma quickly glanced around my shoulder, as if checking to see if anyone was around. But then, she suddenly leaned in and kissed me quickly before pulling away.

"I'll see ya later," she agreed, face flushing red.

This woman will forever be ridiculous.

"Did I just see Emma kiss you goodbyeeee?" Roxanne giggled with glee, dashing up to me the moment Emma had finally Flooed away. She slung her arm around my shoulders as I just scoffed.

"Fuck off."

"MUUUUM, Emma kissed Fred goodbye!"

"As she should!" Mum yelled back from the kitchen.

"I hate all of you," I pointed out. "I'm gonna go now, yeah?"

But I didn't want to go home right now. I didn't want to go back to an empty flat and be alone. I didn't even know if we had any alcohol in the place, but I didn't want to risk ending up in the bathtub again, so I changed my mind last second and decided that I was gonna do what I'd actually said I would, and go and see James and Libby. It was barely eight o'clock, still a reasonable hour, and they would love to see me, I'm sure!

If they hadn't been asleep, that is.

Luckily I hadn't called out as I'd arrived, stepping out of the fireplace, because one look was enough to tell me that both James and Libby had completely passed out already. They had apparently been watching something on TV, but James was slumped comically over the arm of the sofa, snoring while Libby curled up in front of him, completely dead to the world. Christ, who could possibly wake them? I watched them in amusement for a moment until I remembered that I still had no idea how anyone else in this family were handling it.

I'd lost a Dad, but everyone else had lost an uncle. So far the concept had hit me a couple times, but I hadn't been in the right headspace at all to even consider what it would mean for James, Libby or anyone else for that matter. Rose had been so pale lately. Al and Bea so quiet. Was I honestly just a terrible cousin, or was it reasonable that I abandon everyone else for my own head and stupid thoughts? I knew what Emma would tell me. I wasn't sure if I would have believed her.

I glanced around James and Libby's flat. There were piles of un-done laundry, dirty dishes, stains and toys scattered about the floor, so instead of waking them, I decided to put myself to some actual use. I spent the next hour or so cleaning the entire place, ensuring that I didn't get too loud or accidentally trip over something. I'd have to leave a note so that they didn't wake up and have a heart attack upon finding a miraculously clean flat, but at least this way I could still not be alone.

Unfortunately, at one point Clara woke up. I hastily dropped my wand onto the coffee table in front of the sleeping parents to dash to her room, praying that her cries wouldn't wake them straight away. "Clara, Clara, shhhh," I whispered, keeping her room dark as I approached her cot. I wasn't entirely sure what the routine was for trying to get a baby back to sleep, as she was all wrapped up in some funny baby-swaddle-blanket thingy, but I figured there would be no harm in snuggling until she at least calmed down. Clara whined and cried against me as I picked her up.

Eventually, the cries turned into snuffling and I tentatively sat down on the tiny sofa that sat in Clara's room. Thankfully, the stilled movement didn't set her off again.

"Why'd you wake up, huh?" I muttered, leaning back so that Clara could rest against me. I spoke in the dark, whispering softly. "You babies and your ridiculous sleeping patterns. Bad dream? Don't worry 'bout it. I have 'em sometimes."

Clara yawned, quiet against my chest now. I glanced down and whispered into her fluffy hair. "I'm so sorry, girl … I'm sorry you're gonna grow up like me," I sighed. "I never knew my Uncle Fred. He died before I was even born. Ages ago, years … it's hard to try and come up with some sadness over it, because I never knew him, you know? Now my dad is gone and you're never gonna know him, either. I'll always be here for you, but I'm probably gonna mention him every now and then, Clara, and you won't get what all the fuss is about. You'll get that it's sad, but it won't ever affect you, my buddy … I mean, it's a good thing," I stroked her back a little. "I always thought my dad resented the fact that I could never really bring myself to be sad over Uncle Fred … but now I get it. I'm glad you're so young that you don't have to deal with this."

I hugged her a little tighter. I would not have any more crying in here from either of us, so I figured it would be time to try and put her back to bed. However, after standing and attempting to put her down, I figured out rather quickly that she was just gonna scream any time she hit the mattress. It was only after the tenth attempt or so when I finally gave in and said, "Jesus, fine! I'll go get your Mum, ok? _Honestly_ …" I moved with her back down the hallway and into the lounge.

I kicked at the sofa, saying,

"Yo! Your child has awakened!"

"Hmmm?" Libby suddenly murmured while James just grunted a little. She glanced up in confusion before muttering, "Oh, god …" as she stretched and shoved James awake as well. "Fred, what're you doing here? You didn't have to get her–"

"I came to say hey, but you were both passed out," I snorted. "Figured I'd help out with some cleaning instead, but she woke up and won't go back down. I think she wants you or something?"

"I'll take her," James rumbled, slowly picking himself up from behind Libby. She seemed more than happy to let him do it, James taking his baby off me and muttering to her as he took her back to bed,

"C'mon, Clara, you don't need more cuddles, you need sleep …"

I flopped down onto the sofa next to Libby where James had been. Instead of moving to give me room, Libby just curled herself up against me instead. I still wasn't really comfortable with anyone touching me yet, but this was ridiculous and I wanted to be close to James and Libby again. I tensed, but I still let her stay next to me.

"Sorry if I messed up her routine or something, but she was crying and I didn't wanna wake you guys," I told her, letting an arm wrap loosely around her shoulders.

"It's totally fine," Libby yawned against me. "Did you seriously clean up in here, Fred?"

"You kidding? It was a fuckin' mess!"

"Thank you," Libby squeezed my waist. "God, _thank you_."

"Naw, it's fine."

"Oh!" Libby suddenly seemed to remember something. "I'm not too late for your birthday, right? Happy birthday!"

"Still the 10th July, you're not late at all," I managed a smile.

"What'd you do today?"

"I … went home," I wrinkled my nose. "Jesus, now that just sounds boring."

"I'm sorry," She winced. "I can't imagine it would have been that great …"

"Nah, nah," I waved her off. "Emma and I had dinner with Mum and Roxie, but I showed her around Hitchin a little first. Hey, where're you from again?"

"What, do I not sound Northern anymore?" Libby scoffed. "I'm from Stockport, it's like in the Greater Manchester area."

"Ew, _Manchester?_ "

"Shut up! You damn southerners, thinking you're better," Libby laughed, hitting me in the chest. "Hey Fred?" she added after a couple of moments.

"Yeah?"

"I hope … I want you to know you can talk to me, if you want," she shrugged a little. "Just, I know you've got Emma and James, but I'm here too, ok?"

Christ, Libby. My eyes stung at her words, but I held it in. I guess it meant something for her to be offering, but I didn't want to drag her into this. I didn't want to think about what it was that needed talking about in the first place. I think I was at the point of wanting to just move past it. Dad could fuck up my birthday, fine, but he wouldn't fuck up anything else! I'd be ok from here on in, right? If I could just get past it, if I could just let it go and forget about it, then I would be fine … right?

I had to take several moments before I could answer her,

"I hear ya, Lib."

James eventually joined us once more after settling Clara. He noticed the cuddle-party on the sofa and snorted, "This looks cosy, would it be weird if I joined?"

"Don't worry, you can have her back," I made to move, but Libby held me down as James forced himself in between me and the arm of the sofa. With the two of them close on either side, I should have felt smothered, but …

"Shut up, mate, and let us hug you a bit," James said, adding his arms around me like Libby.

"I didn't ask to have a threesome tonight," I pointed out.

James slapped me upside the head. "Dickhead. Happy birthday, mate."

I just shook my head and let them keep hugging me.

* * *

I was grateful to Floo back home and find that Emma had gotten back before me. I assumed that we'd arrived within minutes of each other, since she was still standing in the middle of the lounge when I saw her, but the moment I opened my mouth, she turned and said, "Shush!" before staring intensely at nothing once more.

"… I'm sorry, what are you doing?" I asked.

"I said, _shush_ ," Emma insisted. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"On what?"

"Something feels off."

"Okaaay …" I glanced at her in bewilderment, but then I started looking around as well. I hooked an elbow over her shoulder as I moved to observe our surroundings with her. I mean, my flat looked exactly the same as when we'd left it! But …

Actually, I don't know. Emma might have been right about something. Her eyes were narrowed and I followed her gaze around the endless magazines on the coffee table, the empty plates stacked on the floor that Emma hadn't put away, things that were usual around here. Then, I noticed the cushion on the floor. I guess it could have fallen, but I didn't remember it ever being there. The TV remotes I'm pretty sure were in different positions as well on the sofa. The umbrella stand by the front door had been moved slightly. It was subtle, and I didn't even know why I was noticing it, but I was now suddenly getting the feeling that someone else had been here while we hadn't.

"Huh," I muttered.

"You get me, right?"

"That cushion–" I began.

"Wasn't like that when we left, yeah," Emma answered.

"It feels–?"

"Strange in here?" Emma asked, looking up at me with concern.

"I don't know," I frowned.

"I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like when someone you don't know has been searching through your things and everything looks the same but has been left in the wrong places," Emma said. "You don't think Libby or someone dropped by when we weren't here?"

"Nah, I literally just saw them and they were dead to the world. Besides, I'd know if it was someone like that," I turned, moving back to the fireplace. "Only certain people can get through the wards …"

"It's a mystery, I guess," Emma shook her head, smiling half-heartedly. "I suppose I'll go put those pies from your mum away. She's cool, by the way!" she added in a yell as she moved off to the kitchen.

I stayed staring at my fireplace. Emma hadn't been wrong. Now that I kept looking, it was clear that something wasn't completely right here. It felt like I'd been randomly offered pieces of a puzzle, but didn't have any clue as how they related or fit together, or even what any of the other pieces were. Nor had I ever signed up to complete this puzzle in the first place, I mean, what the fuck, right?

I listened to Emma moving through the kitchen and the squawk of what was clearly Ravi having decided to turn up again at some point. Emma laughed at the sound of his wings probably flying around her head …

And suddenly, it hit me.

* * *

"HOLY SHIT, I'VE GOT IT, GUYS!"

Several startled faces looked up as I burst my way into the Homicide Division at the Auror Offices. I had practically kicked my way past Agatha's desk at reception (the lady would forgive me, I'm sure) and I skidded to a halt, slamming my hands into the tiny table half-hidden behind pot-plants that had been designated to Yael, Kayla and their small team of Aurors hunting Reddale. Liam Bolton slinked off awkwardly, muttering, "YA, I'll let you guys handle this one," as I waved a piece of parchment in the air.

"I'm serious! I've figured it out!" I cried with glee.

"Um, Fred?" Kayla began, apparently a little in shock.

"What? Oh, right – yeah, yeah, good to see you guys too, been a while–"

"What I think Kayla is struggling to say," Yael pointed out, slowly and carefully edging to his feet. "is that the last time we saw you, Fred, was at your dad's funeral."

I frowned. I knew that they'd been at the funeral, what was their point? Sapphire, Yael and Kayla had all come actually, though I didn't remember them being there. I didn't remember much from the funeral at all really, so it wasn't surprising that I had only found out later. I was grateful for the gesture, but I didn't want to talk about that, or anything to do with my dad, for that matter. Emma had already forced me to wait the night out and think about my theory before storming the Auror Office, and I hadn't slept at all. Practically as soon as dawn had hit, I was out of bed and rushing here as quickly as I could.

"Like … how are you, Fred?" Kayla asked as off-hand and casually as possible.

"Positively swell, Kayla, especially once I tell you this," I slammed the parchment down on the table. "I think I know a way you can track him."

"Who, Reddale?"

"Who the hell else? OF COURSE, Reddale!" I practically yelled.

"Ok, ok, fine," Yael yanked out a chair. "Clearly something's happened, so … sit and explain."

I dropped down heavily. "It hit me last night," I began. "Emma and I had been out, but when we got home, it felt like someone had been in and messed up all our stuff, even though the wards apparently hadn't been breached. Ravi was back – that's my barmy owl – but I don't think he's actually as barmy as I thought he was!"

"Are you following this?" Kayla asked Yael.

"Barely," Yael said. "Fred, can you back up a bit? What on earth has your owl got to do with Reddale?"

"I've been over the casefile with you guys a hundred times," I reminded them. "There's been mail inconsistencies in several of the murders, but you could never find a pattern, right?"

"Every weird thing could be explained away in the end, yeah," Yael answered. "Huntley said to drop that line of investigation because there were too many coincidences and not enough evidence to actually link the mail theft or whatever to Reddale."

"What if you dropped that line too early?"

"You think Reddale has been intercepting your owl?"

"It would make sense!" I cried. "C'mon, I'm a potential next target, aren't I? He's been quiet for ages so he's due for another murder soon, right?"

"You always insisted that you were barely inconsequential in his trial, that he wouldn't even remember you or think you worth killing," Kayla practically accused me.

"So maybe I was wrong. Look at me! I'm totally worth killing, right?"

"Don't answer that," Kayla said quickly to Yael.

My friend sighed a little, gesturing for the parchment in my hand. "So what's this, then?"

"Hmm? Oh, a bill, it's nothing, I think I just brought it for dramatic effect," I admitted, trying not to feel embarrassed that I'd barely thought through this theory. I guess it did sound all too easy. Emma hadn't been all too keen on the idea as she didn't like sleeping with the idea of a serial killer having potentially been in our flat ( _our?_ HANDLE LATER). Of course I didn't like the idea either, but this was something I could concentrate on and not feel like I was going out of control, you know? This was something I was good at, something I could help with and sure I wasn't an actual Auror yet, but surely my friends knew me well enough to trust my instincts by now!

Apparently not right at that moment. The two of them were looking at me like I was crazy. "It's not an absolutely insane idea, right?" I pleaded. "We know Reddale stalks his victims. We know he picks an opportune moment when they're gonna be alone to attack. What if … seriously, what if I'm the next victim he has lined up?"

"Ok, say we humour you," Yael shot me a stern look as if to say _like hell am I actually gonna humour you_ , but I appreciated the sentiment anyway. "Say, like you're suggesting, he's been interfering with your mail all this time as he stalks you. How long has your mail been interfered with like this?"

"Uh … well, all right, that's a bit difficult to say," I admitted sheepishly. "Because my owl is, admittedly, deranged. He's always buggered off every now and then, ever since I got him, but I swear to god, it's never been like he has been recently!"

"So … you're going with 'recently'?"

"Look, I know this isn't a foolproof theory–"

"You bet your arse it isn't," Kayla said at once. "Yael, we can't let him even consider the idea!"

"I'm ok," I insisted. "I swear, I am!"

But from the look on his face, Yael was agreeing with his better half. "Fred," he sighed. "think about it. It's a line of investigation that was dropped years ago because there wasn't enough hard evidence to sustain it. You're going off a pure hunch, here. Yes, maybe a few things fit, but there is absolutely nothing concrete that links your suspected mail interference to Reddale. The best we could do is look into it, but it would mean getting a statement from you, from Emma, people in your building. We would have to gather evidence from your flat so you wouldn't be able to stay there, and I don't want to have to disrupt you and make you move out when you're already dealing with a bunch of other shit on top of it–"

"I already told you, _I'm fine_ ," I almost snapped.

No, I guess I didn't want an entire forensics team combing over my flat. I didn't want Yael posting bodyguards to trail after me until the killer was caught. But for some reason, I just knew that I was right. I knew that if they did it, they'd find what they were looking for and the most obvious plan would come up. But if they were so reluctant to agree to just opening an investigation, I knew there was absolutely no way they'd be willing to go along with the plan in my head.

This was all so simple: send a fake letter.

Reddale stalked his victims to find the best time to catch them alone and unawares. Obviously, he was using the mail to get a lot of his information. Send a fake letter and we lure him out, it would work perfectly! An easy answer as to why he hadn't caught me alone yet was because I never was alone: I always had Emma. For a slight moment, I sat there at the table feeling a little uneasy at that line of thinking ( _Emma was so close to this, Emma was the only thing standing in the way, would Reddale ever …?_ ) but I shook it off.

No. This had to be bigger than me, or her, or even my dad. It was about saving lives. Wasn't that what being an Auror was all about? I had an opportunity to protect people and if Yael and Kayla wouldn't help me, then I'd just have to do it myself.

"Ok," I sighed, pretending to give in. "I guess I'm not fine."

"Thank god," Yael sighed as the relief visibly waved off Kayla. "Does this mean we can trust you not to do anything stupid, Fred?"

"Of course," I lied.

"Look, I'll go report to Auror Huntley, tell him your theory, ok?" Kayla said gently as she stood. "It's the best we can offer for now."

Yael and I watched her go, my friend's eyes trained on her until the last second, her auburn ponytail finally whipping around the corner. There were a lot of things I guess I hadn't caught up on. My brain had been too singular-focused lately, too self-absorbed to even look at anyone else. First James and Libby, now Yael and Kayla. How were they even doing? They still looked tired and ragged, but Yael's beard at least looked like he'd had trimmed it lately. Maybe since the nudge in the right direction, the two being together had helped their mental states enough that they had the energy now to keep going again. It was a nice thought, at least.

Maybe I was just the crazy one now.

"So," Yael was apparently rather keen to change the topic. "You heard about your Auror application, yet?"

"Results still pending," I answered. "Mind you, Ravi did come back with a bunch of mail – I was a bit overeager to tell you guys what I knew – maybe I missed the letter."

"You'll get it, mate. Results for new trainees are normally always released in the first couple weeks of July," Yael clapped me on the shoulder. "I'd check for that letter, you might find you've already got it."

"Just think, this September we could both be Aurors."

"Shut up, don't get ahead of yourself," Yael punched me this time. "You'll be a first-year trainee. And don't get any ideas about trying to force yourself into this investigation, either! You do that enough already as just a bail agent."

"I would never."

"Dickhead. Oh! I remember you going on and on about how it was your birthday party some Saturday coming," Yael tried to grin. "That's gotta be soon, right?"

"My birthday was yesterday," I admitted.

"I missed it! Happy birthday, mate, how old are you now?"

"Twenty six. It feels old."

I knew what the look on his face meant, though. _Twenty six is so young_. The poor man is only 26 and has no father anymore. My life had literally still barely started and now I was 'dealing' with the 'loss'. I knew Yael meant well, but the bloke had never been good at hiding his emotions. This was the same guy who'd sobbed into his champagne when Reddale had been convicted, for crying out loud.

He had no idea. No one ever had any idea.

I didn't want to keep making small talk. I wanted to go and put my idea into action, because lord knew these guys weren't gonna do it. I managed to excuse myself before Kayla came back only by promising 50 more times that I wouldn't do anything dumb, but honestly, this wasn't dumb! No, this was the only thing that I knew would work. I would write a letter to someone, it didn't matter who, saying that I would be staying home tonight. Maybe I would send it to Charmaine and Emma's place, telling her to stay home and see her flatmate for once. He'd figure out that I was gonna be alone. If Reddale was lying in wait for the opportune moment, like I knew he was … then he would strike, wouldn't he?

I could get him.

I unfortunately hit a snag in the plan.

"What are you doing?" Emma's voice from right behind me suddenly made me jump at the kitchen table.

"Jesus Christ – Emma, don't sneak up like that!" I cried, clutching the letter to my chest.

"I saw you writing to me," She was suspicious already. "Why? I'm right here, aren't I?"

"I was just …"

But Emma knew. She just knew straight away. I don't know how, but I couldn't ever hide anything like this from her I guess, and she'd caught the guilt immediately. She feigned snatching the letter in one direction that I stupidly fell for, and she was able to grab at it over my other shoulder. "EMMA," I stood up to try and get it back, but she was already reading and backing away.

"Oh, no, don't you fucking DARE," she snarled, crumpling the letter in her hand. "What the hell is this, Fred? Actually, don't tell me, because I already KNOW what it is, and I'm telling you now, you're not doing it."

"You know it'll work–"

"Don't even TRY and convince me!" her sudden yelling surprised me a little. I didn't even know she could go that pale. "Bloody – Christ – are you ACTUALLY suicidal?!"

"I tried to get Yael and Kayla on board, but they wouldn't go for it!" I tried, desperately. "Emma, this could be the shot that gets him–"

"What, you?" Emma cried. "Sitting here in the dark, waiting for him, alone? This man MURDERS people, and if you're right, then he's actively targeting you! Fred, you're not being rational, you're doing something downright dangerous and you're fucking scaring me! What the hell were you even gonna write to get me outta the flat?"

"I hadn't–"

"Thought of that one, yet?" Emma suggested. I'd never seen her so scared, and yet also so angry at the same time before. "MY GOD, you don't understand, you're gonna get yourself KILLED!"

"Emma, I have to do this–"

"No, you don't!" Emma cried. She stormed forward, abandoning the fake letter I hadn't even finished writing yet to grab at my arms. "Fred, you _can't_ face him down yourself. You can see how ridiculously stupid this is, can't you? Please, please tell me you understand that."

"I don't see another choice–"

"Yes, there is," she said, furiously. "You wait until Yael and Kayla can investigate fully. You wait until they know for sure, you wait until they have an entire back-up team ready, and then you get a fully qualified Auror who's trained to deal with these situations to be the bait. You don't _ever_ put yourself in danger like this!"

"I HAVE TO DO THIS," I burst out.

She was crying. I hadn't noticed the angry tears until now, but they silently poured down her face as she glared up at me and I wanted to slam my head into a wall. She had to be feeling helpless. Useless. I hadn't realised she was that upset and I hated it. I could tell her I'd be fine, but deep somewhere, I think I knew reassurance wasn't gonna work. Telling her anything would be a lie. She was right, I was baiting a serial killer and I hated that it was hurting her, I'd rather die than hurt her, but …

This was beyond me.

Beyond the both of us.

"Fine," her voice was shaking. "Fine. Go ahead and get yourself killed. See if I fucking care."

"Emma–" I called after her.

She had pulled back and stormed away, but suddenly reeled back around in the kitchen doorway. "WHAT, Fred?" she asked. "Will you admit that this isn't about Reddale? What do you want me to say, WHAT?"

"What the hell else would this be about?"

"Your dad, fuckhead," Emma snapped, swiping hastily at her face. "You say you're fine, you say that you're getting better, but it's barely been two weeks. You're not fucking fine."

"Don't–"

"Fred, it's ok, you're not expected to BE fine! Don't do this–"

"I don't want to talk about it–"

Emma rubbed her eyes hard for a moment. "Then I have no reason to be here. If you're still alive tomorrow, maybe call me."

She left before I could yell after her once more. Wasn't there a point in time when I couldn't ever not go after her? But I was rendered frozen in my kitchen, staring at the door where she'd left, wondering how the fuck I'd gotten here. See, there's that motherfucker inside my head, right? You know the one, the idiot who whispered ' _run_ ' every time things got too real. Every time she was wrapped around me, every time we held hands or bloody kissed goodbye, that idiot was still there, trying to trigger the flight response, and he was talking again now. Only instead of run, he was suddenly telling me ' _stay_ '.

 _Stay here. Don't go after her. You've got a job to do, remember?_

I'd been ignoring the voice for so long that I actually took several steps across the kitchen, until I caught sight of that unfinished letter still screwed up on the floor. God, I was so fucked up. Emma was the best thing that had ever happened to me but Reddale was the worst ( _that's a lie, that's a lie, there's something worse and you know it_ ). Was I really going to risk it, risk my life, risk Emma, _risk losing everything_ to try and catch this guy? I didn't even know how long I ended up standing in the middle of my kitchen, trying to get up the courage to bend down and pick up the letter.

I hesitated too long.

Suddenly, the whooshing of the fireplace jerked me out of the war inside my head and I swore. Someone had arrived. I should have expected it, really. Emma was surely gonna come back with reinforcements – maybe James, maybe Rose, maybe even one of her brothers or Roxanne – and I had about two seconds to brace myself.

I'm tellin' ya, I did not expect Scorpius Malfoy of all fucking people.

"Fred?" I heard his voice call out.

" _Scorpius?_ " I said back, utterly bemused. Sure enough, my lanky blonde-haired cousin-in-law stopped in the kitchen doorway, arms folded across his chest.

I mean, I'm friendly with the bloke, no kidding, but we weren't exactly _close_. What the hell was happening, here? His eyes kept straying from my position in the middle of the room to the letter that was still sitting battered on the floor, waiting for me to have the guts to send it. Ravi squawked suddenly from his perch and I managed to shake my head.

"You know," I said. "Out of everyone I thought Emma might send, I never guessed it would be you."

"What makes you think Emma sent me?"

"Why else would you be here?" I shot back.

Scorpius sighed, lowering his arms. He didn't ask for permission to enter, just strode in anyway, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down heavily. He stared pointedly until I moved and reluctantly joined him. I wouldn't describe Scorpius Malfoy as a funny bloke, but I knew he had it in him to laugh and tease his wife. I knew he had a certain charm about him, could get along with most people, but sitting down next to him now, I didn't get that sense at all.

He was here tonight for a reason. A serious reason, but he didn't fucking know me.

"I'm here to talk sense into you, idiot," Scorpius pointed out.

"What the hell makes you think I'll even listen to you?"

"I swear I'm not here because anyone sent me," Scorpius insisted, pushing back his hair as he leaned an elbow on the table. "I'm here because I'm the only one besides your sister who really gets what's going on."

"You think you understand what I'm dealing with?"

"I lost a parent too, fuckhead," Scorpius pointed out.

Oh … shit.

We both stared hard for a good long moment. I'd honestly forgotten. Astoria Malfoy … I remembered when I'd found out that she had passed away, about four years ago now. James had told me. It was before Emma, before James ever had anything serious with Libby, back when Scorpius and Rose weren't even living together yet. I hadn't gone to the funeral – I didn't really know Scorpius then, I hadn't felt like I should – but it had hit the family, all right. From what I could remember, Astoria had been the cool one, the nice one, the one who didn't hold grudges and Scorpius had not handled it well, if the rumours had been true …

"Fuck," I muttered. "I forgot."

"Clearly," Scorpius said. "Look, I'm here because I remember what it was like and for some reason, I'm getting the feeling that you haven't talked about George yet."

I felt my hackles rise up, despite the fact that Scorpius was right. No, I hadn't talked about him, but it was _so damn easy_ not to. If I buried it, never mentioned it, then it was easier for it to go away, or so I'd imagined. It was easy to just to carry on like normal. I didn't hide that I wasn't ok, but I guess I'd been hoping that it would slowly get better with time.

It'd been two weeks, and nothing had changed.

"Fuck you. Who says I wanna talk about it?"

"Your face," Scorpius said, bluntly. "It's all over your face, mate."

I saw him eyeing the letter again. If I wasn't careful, he was gonna go make a grab for it, but to my surprise, I didn't move to try and beat him to it. Instead, I silently dared him. _Go on. Try and take it from me. Try and stop me …_

"You felt like your world just collapsed in on itself," Scorpius said instead. "The moment you were told he was gone. Life carried on around you, but now you're stuck and you don't know how to move again. You can't believe it. I didn't believe it. I was only 21 when my mum died. She had a brain aneurysm that ruptured, died overnight. We couldn't have stopped it, apparently it was genetic, but I had to find out by owl when my dad finally got round to telling me _…_ I didn't talk to him for weeks afterward."

A part of me didn't want to hear this, but the rest held on to every word without meaning to. I stayed staring hard at the kitchen table, refusing to look up. If I looked up, I knew it would all be over. Scorpius was saying things that rang true, things that hit hard. I thought 26 was young, but 21 was … how old Roxanne was.

"You didn't scream at the funeral?" I muttered.

"Nah," Scorpius shook his head. "I almost didn't go at all."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" Scorpius scoffed. "Rosie had to haul my arse there. I'm glad she did, but sometimes I wonder whether it might've been easier to just not go."

"You were at my dad's funeral, you saw me," I still didn't look up. "The entire family thinks I'm a mess."

"You are a mess, mate," Scorpius almost laughed. "but shit, Fred, that's ok. Merlin, we need something to drink, you got anything?"

"Check the fridge, but don't let me have anything," I mentioned, as Scorpius got up from the table. "I don't really trust myself to drink at the moment."

Scorpius paused for a moment, before slowly sinking back down into his chair without ever having checked the fridge. "How come?" he asked, off-handly.

"These days, I tend to drink too much."

Scorpius pondered that for a moment, before saying, "Coffee then."

He made it. It was a bit bizarre that we'd ended up together like this, but Scorpius had been right. Apart from my sister, he was the only other person who really, truly understood what was happening in my head right now. We drank coffee in silence for several minutes. The letter still sat on the floor, but I was barely paying it any attention now.

"So what happens when you _do_ drink too much?" he asked, quietly.

I finally glanced up and met his eye. "Did you ever think about dying yourself?"

Scorpius considered my words, sipping on his coffee. "In an abstract sort of sense … like what if I died tomorrow as well, what would happen to Dad, what would happen to Rose, that kind of thing … but I get the feeling that not what you mean."

"No, it's not."

"Fred," Scorpius put the mug down. "I'm telling you now, don't."

"I won't. I just … I think about it," I admitted. "Sometimes."

"What stops you?"

"Same things you mentioned," I said. "Mum. My sister. Emma."

"This stunt you're trying to pull tonight," Scorpius nodded at the letter. "Why are you actually doing it?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"You know this is reckless of you," Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Jesus, you _know_ that is has to be the dumbest thing you've ever attempted, so be honest here – are you doing this hoping that Reddale will kill you?"

"Fuck you," I snapped.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Scorpius, the bugger, was smug now. "Even if it's just a small part of you, it's in there. You _want_ to draw him out, bring the fight to you. I wont pretend I know a thing about being an Auror, but even I'm pretty damn sure that you don't go round baiting deranged serial killers unless you've got a bloody army behind you ready to back you up. You send that letter, and you're gonna get killed. You get that, right?"

I looked away again towards the letter. Every inch of this plan was stupid, and I knew it, but here I was, still sat here anyway. Emma probably hated me. Scorpius was right, but I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. "I don't …" I muttered, voice choking a little. "I don't know how …"

"Talk to someone, mate," Scorpius insisted. "It doesn't really matter who. But I tried bottling it myself, and that shit has to go somewhere eventually. I get it, this is hard, and you don't know how to get through it, but that's why we have therapists, mate–"

"I don't need to talk to anyone like that, I'm fine–"

Scorpius actually laughed. "Mate, if you are fine, then I'm a bloody flobberworm."

If it had come from anyone else, I might have snapped. But Scorpius knew. He was the only one who knew how to carry on from here, and his words stabbed me deep. Months could go by and it still wouldn't get any better unless I actually faced it. I didn't want Emma to be scared of me anymore. I didn't want her to worry that I would do something dangerous or stupid, or both. I could cry with her, but I couldn't talk to her yet, not about this, and suddenly, I was pushing violently out of my chair, striding over and scooping up the letter. I came back and slammed it into Scorpius' chest. "Get it away from me," I practically demanded.

Scorpius took it and screwed it up in his hands, shoving the rubbish into his pocket. "If you want," he said, casually. "I've still got the details of the therapist I talked to. I could get them for you …"

"Yeah," I muttered, leaning my elbows on the table, head hanging in my hands.

"It's good. It'll help."

"How – how long until …" I couldn't finish the sentence, but Scorpius thankfully seemed to know what I was going to ask.

"There's no set time, man. I still miss Mum every day, but you learn to deal with it. It eventually gets better. Don't try and put a time limit on it, just … take each day as it comes."

"I never knew you were this level-headed, Scorpius."

"Eh," he shrugged. "I'm a lot more fun when Rose is around."

"You guys should come round sometime."

"That'd be cool," Scorpius grinned a little. "Rosie loves you guys, I'm sure she'd be up for anything."

"Is …" I hesitated a little. "Is Emma gonna hate me for this?"

Scorpius just drank more of his coffee for a moment. I was grateful that he didn't seem to care about calling himself out for lying earlier by trying to insist that Emma had never sent him. "I'm not gonna lie, she was terrified when she turned up," he said. "You scared the crap out of her. But she's just worried about you. She loves you and wants to make sure you'll be ok, mate. She'll be mad, but she won't hate you."

 _She loves you_.

Now wasn't the time to have that screaming inside my head, but Scorpius had put it there and suddenly, I forgot all about sending the letter. "Did she …" I swallowed painfully. "Did she actually say all of that?"

"Well, I assumed as much," Scorpius said. "Like I said, she was a bit frantic so I left as soon as I could, but c'mon, we all see it. She thinks the world of you."

"I'm such a fuck up."

"Yeah, but you're her fuck up," Scorpius grinned.

"She's never said it," I mentioned. "That she – loves me – that is …"

" _Never?_ " Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because that woman loves the shit out of you, plain as day."

"No," I shook my head. "I mean, I've said it! … well, once … ok," I cringed a little at the memory. "It was several months ago and I threw up and passed out immediately afterwards, but it counts, right?"

Scorpius just shook his head. "What the bloody hell?"

"Our story is a bit complicated."

"I should be thankful, then," he smirked.

"Oi – when did you first tell Rose, then?" I demanded.

"Oh, blimey," Scorpius drained the last of his coffee. "I was fifteen. She slapped me in response."

I couldn't help bursting into laughter at that, feeling a little of the edge that had been building up the last day or so finally slowly dissipating. Luckily, Scorpius also seemed to find the flashback funny, since he began sniggering as well. "I think it's safe to say that I know all about complicated as well, mate," he chortled.

"Let's not have a competition about it, I get the feeling we'll be here all night."

"If it helps," Scorpius grinned. "She eventually said it back."

"And you guys were seriously fifteen?"

"Well, sixteen by the time we started going out, but yeah," he said. "Apart from that time we broke up for like, six months, we've been solid, even if I do want to kill her half the time. I really should pay more attention to the family gossip, because I swear I know nothing about you and Emma, really."

"You don't want to know, trust me."

"Fair enough," Scorpius said. He placed his empty mug down then, growing slightly more serious as he added, "Hey … just so you know, you can always talk to me, ok? I get it. It's rough, but you can tell me anything and I'll listen."

I barely knew what else to say without crying, so I just nodded and drank my own coffee. We sat in silence for a long moment that wasn't uncomfortable or weird, but just … content. Like we were both on the same page. I really should have gotten to know Scorpius Malfoy better before now, but hey.

Maybe this was supposed to be how it all worked out.

* * *

Emma literally broke down and sobbed when Scorpius and I went back to his place.

"Don't – _don't you ever_ – I HATE YOU," Her tears stained my t-shirt as she flung herself into my arms.

"No, you don't," I whispered back.

"No, I don't," Emma punched my chest.

* * *

A/N: FRED. MY POOR POOR FUCKUP.

Look, from here, things are gonna get lighter, I promise! And we're finally starting to get into the final legs of this fic now, Holy Shit. I have zero idea how many chapters are left, but I CAN promise yall that i'll be continuing the tradition of an Opposite POV Chapter Near The End Of The Fic so we'll be hearing from Emma sometime soonish ASHJAHJHJHJHJ!

I hope yall liked our boi Scorpius coming to sort Fred's shit out! I'M SO SORRY that Fred is acting like an idiot ONCE AGAIN, but I guess he has good reason to atm? He is gonna get better from here, I promise. And I also swear that the Reddale shit will get sorted at some point as well! Trust me, I aint gonna leave him still roaming around out there haha.

Thank you so so much for your patience. Your love for this fic astounds me every day (also, it's my 25th birthday today! ! ! as is tradition to always post on my birthday, so like, yall should also wish me happy quarter century and stuff heeeyyoooooooo, hahahaha).

I LOVE YALL SO MUCH!  
Moon. xoxo


	35. That one time I thought about saying it

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 35: That one time I at least thought about saying it.

I swear things started to get better …

* * *

Our room was still dark and quiet when I suddenly jerked awake. Morning was clearly nowhere near yet. I didn't often remember dreams, but my breaths were short, my heart was pounding and Christ, I just wanted this to fucking _end_ already. I was done remembering, I was done dreaming every goddamn night about what else I could have done or said. Without thinking, I stretched out a hand next to me. Emma was curled on her side facing me as she slept, although my hand blindly hitting her chest made her stir a little.

"Fred …?" she murmured.

"'mm sorry," I whispered.

I turned back over. The woman worried enough over me, I could and would handle this by myself. But after a couple minutes, I felt her at my back. She was literally the tiniest person I knew, but she still managed to curl herself around me, winding an arm loosely over my waist.

I suddenly grabbed her and held her arm fiercely against me.

She didn't let go.

* * *

"Remember the first time we ever watched _Star Wars_ together?" Emma asked.

"Three movies in one night, I won't ever forget this hell you dragged me into."

"I almost kissed you that night."

Oh, I remembered QUITE vividly. "Bitch please," I said as she snuggled further down my chest. Rey and Finn were just running and discovering the Millennium Falcon on the screen in the background. "we surely both know that I almost kissed you."

"Ok, fine, maybe we both almost kissed each other," Emma admitted. "Either way … would've been a bad idea."

"Yeah … blimey, we were terrible at just being friends."

"So bad."

"Kinda like the latest movie that's coming out soon," I mentioned. "It's totally just money-grabbing, the trailer sucked."

"… but we're like, still seein' it, right?"

"Oh, duh."

* * *

Emma gave a moan as I shut the front door by slamming her up against it.

Sometimes there was finesse and sometimes there was thought, but right now there was neither. Teeth clashed as I shoved a knee between hers. I'd cut my hair recently, her fingers not used to having nothing to grab onto and she fumbled a little, eventually settling on yanking at my collar. God, I would never tire of her mouth against mine. For several moments, it was just us. Just two people trying to survive, trying to work through shit and trying to be ok. I think it was working. My hands held a death grip against her waist but slowly remembered they could move. They snaked down to her hips, her thighs and then she was hauled up and wrapped around me.

"Oh _lord_ …" Emma moaned against my mouth.

"We're going to be late," I murmured into her skin, leaving nipping, biting kisses down her neck.

"And whose fault is that?"

I shoved the strap of her dress down her shoulder, lips following. There hadn't been a chance in hell of us going anywhere when she'd walked out wearing this get-up, and she'd damn well known it. I felt her legs clench around my hips as I moved my mouth down further, kissing and licking towards her breasts. The hem of the dress was already somewhere around her waist and only her knickers barred my hands from getting where they wanted.

It's easy to yank those aside.

"Ohhhh, FUCK," Emma complained.

"It's not MY fault we ended up here," I smirked.

"Maybe – _god –_ maybe I wore this on purpose," She bit my jaw as I let her control the rhythm.

"Then let's shut up and just finish what we clearly both wanted to start."

"Who needs dinner?"

"Exactly."

Yeah, she didn't shut up. But then again, she never does.

* * *

When I walked in, I realised that Emma was sound asleep on the sofa.

It didn't look like a comfortable position. She was slumped over with an arm under her head and still in her work uniform. A text book about rocks or something was splayed out on the floor as if it had fallen at some point during the night. Apparently while I had been out chasing a bail jumper halfway across the country, she had been here getting about as much sleep as I had been. It was somewhere round seven in the morning and she clearly hadn't gone to bed at all. Not to mention that now she would have to wake up again, only to go straight back to work.

Instead of collapsing straight in bed, I turned around to the kitchen and made her a cup of tea. Placing it on the coffee table, I reached down and ran my fingers through her hair. Then, you know, forcibly shoved her shoulder because literally nothing less woke this woman up.

"Emma. Yo. It's morning, wake up."

She groaned, stretching and causing several cracks along what was no doubt a very abused spine. "Wait, Fred, you're back already?"

" _Already?_ It's about seven in the morning."

"Wait. _Shiiiiit_ , oh shit," she hauled herself upright, rubbing her eyes. Then, she glanced down and added, "Well, at least I'm already dressed."

I just snorted, kissing her head before standing. "Don't die at work today, ok?"

"Ok. Blimey, I need tea …"

"I already made you some." I pointed out the mug on the coffee table.

Emma glanced at the tea in surprise, then up at me. Her eyes were shining and she opened her mouth and closed it, as if unsure of what to say. I suddenly felt my throat close up. Oh, damn. She only ever looks at me like that either when I've fucked up somehow, or she's about to kiss me. Somehow, I don't think she's conscious enough yet to be thinking about kissing, so I MUST'VE fucked up somehow, right? How the hell did I manage that in the last twenty seconds?! I mean, it's got to be some kind of record, but –

"Thank you, Fred."

Oh … _oh_.

"You're, uh … you're welcome."

* * *

Look, the letter could have arrived at literally any time, but I still wouldn't have been prepared for it.

Apparently, the original owl that got sent to me must have been lost in the wayside throughout all the Reddale drama. It was thanks to that and my ridiculous owl that it took so bloody long to get a response from the Auror Office about my application. By the time it got to mid-August and the office _still_ hadn't heard back from me, they must have finally figured that something had happened, so I was thankfully sent a second copy. I ended up ripping it open one morning over breakfast without actually reading the postmark and as such, gave Emma the fucking fright of her life when I practically screeched,

"OH MY GOD!"

"What?! Ouch, _damnit_ –" There was a slam as Emma apparently whacked her elbow against the kitchen bench as she jumped.

"This is from the Auror Office, I'm in!" I yelled. Oh my god. Shit, OH MY GOD. THIS WAS IT, THIS WAS NOT A DRILL! I didn't even know what to do, so I ended up literally throwing the letter at Emma in excitement, before jumping up and down on the spot. "I'M FUCKING IN, EMMA!"

"You made training?" she cried, fumbling for the letter.

"I MADE TRAINING."

"HOLY SHIT!"

"EMMAAAAAA!"

"Are you crying?" she practically laughed, looking up from the letter.

"NO, shut up and kiss me, goddamn it!" I sobbed.

She hurled herself across the kitchen in two seconds flat.

No, really, I was fine! … oh, ok, I wept like a baby. She had thrown herself into my arms but kept laughing so hard at me crying that she couldn't even keep it together long enough to keep kissing me. After months and months of deliberating, after interviews and tests and worrying, it was all worth it because I was gonna be an Auror! ME! I hauled Emma in tight and suddenly span her around several times, much to her delight. I wanted to immediately tell everyone about this, but I was glad that she was the one already here next to me.

She stood there and kissed away the tears from my face.

"I'm so proud, Fred …" she grinned. " _I'm so proud of you_."

* * *

"This is so weird …" Emma mentioned, sitting next to me.

I glanced up from the old single bed that had once been mine. Mum had apparently decided that in the wake of having to go through all of Dad's shit, we might as well keep going and sort out all the other crap this house still held as well. Naturally, it had been going about as well as you'd imagine. Roxanne was currently down the hall in her childhood bedroom as well, yelling out every now and then when she found yet another personal item that she had been certain had been lost forever.

There honestly hadn't been much to find in my room. I keep things immaculate, you know me! Everything that I didn't want at my own place but was still too ridiculously sentimental to throw away I had chucked in three cardboard boxes that had sat in my old wardrobe basically ever since I had moved out. Apart from that, there was really nothing much else of significance left in my old childhood bedroom but that didn't matter to Emma, apparently. No, she was having a ball! She seemed to be more interested in the insight that Fred's Childhood Bedroom could give her than, I dunno, ACTUALLY HELPING. She had laughed at the old Clara Knightley posters on the back of the door and done nothing but run a teasing commentary on every item I'd found in this damn box so far.

"What's so weird?" I said exasperatedly. "Oh wait, I know! You actually helping, now _that_ would be weird."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Just seeing where you grew up, is all. The little kid scribbles at the bottom of the wardrobe, the … holy shit, is that a toy broomstick?" she said at the next item I'd yanked out. "What the fuck did you keep that for?"

"You have to remember your first broomstick!" I complained. "… I mean yeah, it can probably be tossed now. Look, I was 18 and sentimental when I was packing this shit, ok?"

"No version of you has ever been sentimental, Fred," Emma scoffed. "I don't even have to have known ya at 18 to know that."

I just shook my head, rummaging through several old school books that I'd kept because of the dozens of written conversations James and I had had, passing the books back and forth during classes. I flicked through one, as Emma asked,

"Ok, I have to ask. You ever sneak girls into this room?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I said, not even looking up.

" _Freeed_."

I just smirked. "I might've definitely, maybe, snuck a girl up here at some point in my youth."

"Knew it."

"You ever have boys in your old bedroom?" I threw back at her.

"Nah, I would've been way too paranoid for that," Emma said, kicking back next to me as I decided to see whether James wanted to keep our old written conversations or not, tossing the books on the 'keep' pile for now. "Hey! Wanna have sex on your childhood bed?"

I snorted with laughter, leaning over and whacking her lightly. "Just askin'!" she grinned as I dug further into the box. My hands pulled out a photo frame next and suddenly, the atmosphere plummeted. "Oh," I breathed out and Emma glanced up quizzically.

"What is it?" she asked, pulling herself up so that she could lean over my shoulder to see.

The photo had been taken probably when I was about sixteen or something, on someone's camera phone clearly as it was a non-moving selfie of Dad and I. Dad hadn't really understood the phenomena of Muggle technology beyond what was popular to sell at the shop and as such, was making a weird face in the photo while I was laughing and pretending to eat his head. I hadn't expected to come across it and it suddenly hit me like a shit ton of bricks. I was sitting there with my head pounding and my eyes burning and then, Emma was wrapping her arms around me from behind. Up on her knees, she pressed her nose to the side of my head, hugging my shoulders. I raised a hand and absently rubbed her arm as I stayed holding onto the photo.

"I don't even remember where – where we took this," I admitted, thickly.

"It's ok," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, I–"

She just squeezed tighter and let me cry.

* * *

"You got another owl from the Auror Office by the way," Emma said, handing me my plate of lasagne and sitting down on the floor next to me. "Sent by an office owl, so they're clearly learning that Ravi is dumb and can't be trusted."

"Hey, only I can say my owl is dumb!"

"Whatever," She bumped her shoulder against mine, settling in with her own plate. "So is it more Reddale stuff, do you think? Am I gonna have to give a statement?"

Look, the idea that the Reddale killer had literally been in this flat was enough to freak us both out. I just wanted that bastard caught and it was clear now that his motivations were focused on me next. I wasn't just a minor witness in his case that I could blow off now, he was gonna target me eventually but unfortunately, there was no specific proof of that. We didn't even have proof of a break in, thanks to the wards not having been tampered with in any way!

Yael and Kayla believed me like mates are supposed to, but there was nothing much they could do. They couldn't justify protective detail, nor could they convince Huntley that there was merit in my hair-brained idea to bait the serial killer. I'd stopped using Ravi to send stuff, though. I couldn't stop the mad owl from still going out hunting one night and returning four days later with half his feathers and a dead frog, but I could stop him being a source of information for Reddale at least. Maybe he'd get frustrated enough to leave me alone and just go to the next person on his list to get revenge on? Or if we played it right, it would be easy to lure him in (of course, with actual back-up this time and Emma and I FAR, FAR AWAY) but if literally even the slightest thing went wrong with _that_ plan, not only would Yael and Kayla probably be censured, but I would be kicked out of the Auror Office before I'd ever really joined it!

It was exhausting doing nothing. But my friends were working on it. Sometime soon, they'd find their proof of mail tampering and get the justification they needed, but until then … it was hard to sit tight and shut up.

"There's nothing you could say that would add to my statement," I told her. "Don't worry about it."

"But if they had two statements saying the same thing, surely that's better back up than just one?" she insisted.

"Huntley's hardly gonna consider you as unbiased," I said. "Emma, don't worry. Yael and Kayla will find the evidence they need, they're good at their jobs."

She sighed. "Some days, I'm not sure I like the idea of you becoming an Auror."

"Don't worry, I don't think I want to work homicide," I pointed out. I shovelled in several bites of lasagne in amongst my words. "You have to train in everything of course and they just place you at the end of it from what I can remember, but I when I finally get to choose … I dunno, I've been thinking about working Family and Child Protection."

"Seriously?"

"It's where my uncle Harry started out," I shrugged. "and I keep thinking about Ruby and her siblings. That fuckhead who threatened my sister. I dunno, I think it's something I'd like to do."

I almost certainly caught Emma smiling as we stayed silent, eating the rest of our dinner together.

* * *

Yeah …

Things were definitely getting better.

* * *

Why do they make therapist offices so damn cheerful?

"Fred?" the woman in her mid-forties, with dark hair up in a bun and a sweet smile called out to me. When I'd first started coming here I'd actually attempted to say something back, although now she gets that I constantly just look like I want to eat her. About 99% of me literally wanted to throw myself out the nearest window whenever I was in this building, but I figured that they'd probably make Emma or Mum pay for that, so you know. The woman led me down the brightly painted hallway into her office or 'room' or whatever the fuck you call the place where you sit on a sofa and talk about painful shit.

"So how are you, Fred?" she asked as she sat down.

"Oh, I'm spiffing, Hannah!" I said back.

Healer Hannah Maeve shot me a look over her yellow clipboard of parchment, quill waiting behind her ear. I swear to god, if I'd been given any other person as a therapist, I would have been out of here after one session and would literally never come back. But Scorpius had clearly recommended the right person. Hannah … Hannah got me. She was the kind of person who called you out within three seconds. She got you talking about the worst moments of your life, and then somehow made you totally happy to pay for the experience afterwards. She was soothing, no-nonsense and honestly … kinda reminded me of Emma, a little. Like an Emma in 20 years' time, who had been through the world, and knew me and the dumb shit that I did, and was still there telling me to cut it out anyway.

(Not that I've ever imagined Emma and I in 20 years' time! Ha … noooo, that would be crazy …).

"No, really," I hastily added, sitting on my designated Sofa of Pain opposite Hannah. At least her office was a bit more subdued than the clearly-trying-too-hard reception area. "I'm actually good at the moment. Really good. I finally got the owl, by the way, I'm gonna be an Auror in September!"

Hannah looked just as pleased as Emma had been. "Congratulations, Fred! Oh, I know that meant a lot to you."

"Aw, thanks Han. You do care."

The woman just shook her head, before consulting her notes. "You know, in this job you sometimes meet people you know you're never going to forget," Hannah said, flicking through pages. "I don't think I'll ever forget you, Fred."

"I think that's a compliment?"

"Honestly, I'm glad that you've gotten what you worked hard for. You've come a long way," She glanced back up, her game face back on now. "It's been four weeks since you started coming here. Six since your father passed away. How do you feel about that?"

And it was right back into it.

Look, I liked to try and have fun here. One kind of had to, considering what had led to this point, but there still came moments when I had to actually sit down and think about the hard shit. The first time I'd come had been three days after talking to Scorpius at my kitchen table. "Look …" I'd sighed to Hannah back then. "You gotta know I basically suck at this."

"Suck at what?"

"The whole 'talking about shit' thing," I'd winced. "Sorry, am I allowed to swear here? I kinda feel like I'll get in trouble or something."

"You can say whatever you like, Fred," Hannah had said briskly. "Your form here says you that haven't been to any other form of counselling before?"

"That's right."

"Then understand that there's no script here. There's no quiz you need to pass to be released, you're here entirely of your own free will," Hannah had pushed her glasses further up her nose. "If you want to just initially talk that's fine, otherwise I can ask you a couple questions to get you started …?"

"Ask me," I'd said at once. "I wasn't exaggerating, my dear Hannah! You're gonna have to pry info outta me, so you might as well start with the hard shit."

But she'd started with 'why did you decide to come and get help?' and that had immediately confronted the things I'd been thinking lately, the way I'd been acting. Five minutes in, and I was sat there realising that I'd scared the shit out of Emma and my family, that literally everyone including me was worried that I was going to try and hurt myself. That wasn't something I _ever_ wanted to happen, and quite honestly … that first session with Hannah, I'd ended up bursting into tears for a good majority of it.

I still don't know whether Dad would have been ashamed or proud.

But it had been a month since then, and Hannah and I had talked about a lot of stuff, and not even just stuff dealing with when he'd died. We'd talked about growing up, about what it was like having George Weasley as a father, the guilt over blaming him, the grief over missing him … Apparently when I'd filled out the first obligatory 'how fucked up are you really?' forms that reception had made me fill out when booking my first appointment, I'd been red-flagged as ' _at risk_ ' or something. It's how I'd managed to get in so quickly, although I hadn't known it at the time. Apparently, when you answer the question 'what do you do when you are at your lowest point?' with 'I think about dying' it's considered _serious_ or whatever.

I hated that Emma had seen me like that. I hated that Scorpius had, and more than anything I hated myself for letting it get to that point. But … I wasn't beating myself up over it either. It wasn't something to hide or be embarrassed of, it was something to grow away from. Hopefully. Once Hannah got her hands into it. I don't know. I hadn't touched alcohol since the funeral, but I think I was slowly starting to trust myself again.

Thinking of Dad still sucked, but at least I was trying to handle it now.

"I don't know," I ended up telling Hannah. "It feels weird."

"Realising that your dad's been gone for that long?"

"It's not even that long though, is it?" I grumbled, rubbing my forehead. "It's barely been two months and I've got the rest of my goddamn life to get through still."

"But you're thinking ahead now," Hannah pointed out. "You're thinking of the future, making plans for it still. You have Auror training to look forward to, now. You're actively putting value into your life again, and compared to how you spoke about yourself when I first met you, that's so great to hear, Fred."

"Thanks, I guess."

Hannah smirked. "I want to encourage this forward thinking, Fred. I want to spend today talking about those things that you have planned for the future. Keep you focused on them. Ok?"

"Whatever you say, Hannah."

"So I think today, we should talk about Emma."

I stared for a moment or two.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

No.

"Hannah, you are DIABOLICAL."

The woman had been trying to get all or ANY information on Emma ever since I'd first walked in here, but if there was one thing I wasn't talking about, it was her, holy shit. I mean, she was another set of issues entirely! I wasn't gonna go down that road, but clearly I hadn't been able to avoid bringing her up every now and then, and Hannah was fucking beside herself trying to figure out who the hell she was to me. So far, I think she'd managed to gleam that she was _at the very least_ a close friend, but how close exactly she could only suspect.

WELL, KEEP SUSPECTING, GIRL.

"Fred, she's clearly a huge part of your life," Hannah said, exasperatedly.

"I've already told ya, I'm here because my dad died and no other reason," I threw back.

Hannah eyed my smug look for a moment, clearly trying to think her way around this. "Compromise. Tell me how you met?"

"NOPE."

"You're _really_ not going to give me anything?"

"Really, really!" I answered.

"Ok, ok. New tactic," Hannah said, determinedly. Oh, dear. "You don't have to talk. I'll talk. I'm gonna say everything I think I already know about you, Emma, and the two of you together, and I'll just judge by the looks on your face whether I'm right or not. You won't have to say a word. Deal?"

I might have called bullshit, but if there was anything I'd learned, it was that Hannah could be ruthless. She'd been doing this a long time and she clearly knew what each person she saw needed, whether that was soft and comforting, or blunt and direct. I was somewhere on the blunt side and I knew that she had the ability to read faces and tell when something resonated with me.

I … I might be fucked, here.

I didn't respond, but she just flicked back several pages in her notes and began,

"So Emma … you've known her a while, but not too long. Not your whole life, but you've known her at least longer than a year, maybe two. You met through mutual friends. You consider yourselves mates. Good mates. There's chemistry, a spark, something that draws you to her without your meaning it to. She's the light of your life, you think you're terrible for her and you're completely in love with her," She smiled a little. "You want to spend the rest of your life at her side, but you don't know how to say any of that. How am I doing?"

I think my heart had stopped somewhere around three seconds in.

"I, uh … fuck?"

Hannah grinned. "Good to know I still got it. Fred … Emma is clearly an important person in your life. You've said before that she's always been there for you, always offering unconditional support. You've talked about your sister and your mum, but you won't talk about her. Why?"

"It's … Hannah, it's complicated."

"I figured as much," she said. "but sometimes, we overcomplicate things. At the end of the day, love is love."

"Oh, yeah! We're in love, it's just that simple," I snorted. "Or I'm in love at least … I still don't really know about her."

"Was I right in stating that you've known each other a couple of years now?"

"One and a half, nearly two, yeah," I grumbled. Don't ask me what the hell happened, this is what Hannah does! It's pure fucking wizardry, there can't be any other explanation. She's got her wand stuffed somewhere and somehow must be making me talk when I clearly didn't want to!

Or maybe only like … 76% of me didn't want to talk about her. It was a difficult barrier to overcome, ok? Let's face it, I could probably talk about Emma 'til kingdom come because yeah maybe she WAS the light of my life, or whatever the hell. But I'd been trying to hide behind emotionless exteriors for so long that talking about it went against every natural defence I'd ever put up to protect myself. Emma might have managed to curse her way through, but damnit if anyone else was!

But, fuck it. Sometimes, you just needed to talk.

"Was there something right from the start?" Hannah asked, lightly. "Or did it kind of build?"

"The first time we met, we slept together," I said.

"So, from the start."

"From the start, yeah," I shook my head. "I don't know … we met at a party and we were just casual at first. You gotta know, I don't do relationships, I really don't. They were never my thing, I didn't need them, I didn't want them. No one ever believes–"

"It's ok, I believe you."

"Seriously?" I blinked. "Most people felt the need to inform me that I would inevitably change my mind someday."

"You grew up with a father who was also grieving," Hannah pointed out. "Every day, you witnessed how that depression affected him and you saw how your mum had to deal with that. It's normal that that would scare you. You were taught from a young age that emotional connections hurt. Of course they don't always hurt, but it's no one's fault that that's the conclusion your brain made. It makes sense that you might grow up wary of relationships."

"Ha … ha. Shit, mate."

"Hit home a bit too hard?"

"A bit," I winced. "Fucking accurate, Hannah."

"It's why I wasn't quite sure whether you and Emma were together or not," she admitted. "I'm still on the fence, to be honest."

"Look, it's taken a long time to get to this point, ok?" I admitted. "We're … look, I'll say we're together for the want of a better term, but we don't talk about it. It's hard. I've fucked up before, there's a lot of history, and I don't want to get hurt again. Or hurt her or … CHRIST, I can't believe I'm saying any of this …"

"You've mentioned before," Hannah said, flicking through her notes again. "that Emma was one of the biggest motivations for you deciding to get help."

"I was scaring her, yeah."

"You're not anymore?"

"I like to think I'm not," I admitted.

"Do you ever think about a future with Emma?"

"Every goddamn second, but I'm trying to rein it in," I said.

Hannah smiled. "What do you imagine?"

God, I don't know. What the hell DID I imagine? It wasn't like I consciously let my brain decide 'we're going to imagine in five years' time now!' but the brain can't help but slide sometimes, you know? I guess I thought about baby Clara being grown up some day. You know, Emma and I being her favourite aunt and uncle and taking her in whenever her parents needed a break, that kinda thing. I thought about that holiday in Cornwall she got us for our birthdays. I imagined there eventually being a day I could tell her I loved her without going into paralysing shock. I thought about being an Auror and having her as my next of kin. I thought about watching new _Star Wars_ films with her, having a birthday party finally and being able to talk without being afraid, but I think this is the first time I've ever actually consciously brought up any of this in my head and I didn't know how to get the words out. I just stared helplessly at Hannah until she took pity on me.

"You don't have to say it out loud. Just keep that future in your head, it's a good thing to stay focused on."

"Look, I need to admit something here," I said, still feeling a little helpless. "We've never actually _said_ … y'know, the uh, words."

"You mean I love you?"

"It feels like when you can't remember someone's name, right?" I asked. "So you just call them 'mate' or something and then suddenly, it's been going on for so long that there's literally no un-embarrassing way to ask what the ever loving fuck their name is. Like … I said it once. But I was drunk. We were fighting at the time and I pretended I couldn't remember the next day, so you could say it didn't go well."

"If it helps, anything would be a step up from that?"

"Cheers, Hannah."

"So what are you asking?" she smiled.

"I'm not asking, I'm _saying_ … I need to tell her again," Good lord, now there was a concept. "but like, with no alcohol or crying."

"Fred, it's not a competition," Hannah said. "Don't compete with your past self. Do you need to tell her, or want to?"

"Both?"

"If you feel like you need to do it for your own self and peace of mind, or for hers, that's ok," she said. "but only if you want to as well. Don't force the words to come. I know it's hard to try not to plan anything, but you put a lot of pressure on yourself when you do. It should be nerve-wracking, but it shouldn't make you feel crushed under the weight of it, either. Does that make sense?"

"So I should just let it happen whenever it happens?"

"If that's what works for you," Hannah said.

"You're good at saying shit without actually saying shit, you know that, right?"

Hannah actually laughed. "Yep. Definitely never going to forget you, Fred."

* * *

"I'M BACK, BITCH."

"Oh hey, bitch," Emma yelled in response.

I gave a start when I first walked into my bedroom. Like, was she … organising? Good lord, I think she was! Clothes were fucking everywhere, looking like they had just exploded out of the washing basket that had used to hold them. Now, the basket in question was upside down on the other side of the room, random articles of clothing tossed haphazardly in its direction. Emma had also taken the liberty of dumping out all of my belongings out of the drawers that I'd given to her and APPEARED (if I wasn't mistaken) to be sorting, folding and putting her own things away.

She didn't even bother look up from her concentration as I entered, leaning against the doorframe in amazement. Look, out of the two of us, she is _not_ the organised one. Emma Louise Terry couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery, as I believe the saying goes, but here she was, wearing only knickers and a jumper with a penguin on it as she sorted through her clothes.

Wonders never cease with her.

"Oh, your shit's over there," she tossed out, casually waving a hand in the direction of the pile of garbage that I had probably kept in those drawers.

"What the actual fuck is all this?" I ended up asking. "Are you possessed?"

"Look, I desperately needed to find something to wear for tonight and I figured I'd been putting off sorting this out long enough," Emma said, still not looking up from folding. "You know how it is. You start and then you kinda have to finish it. I'm assuming that's all right with you, Auror Weasley?"

"Don't worry, I was just assuring myself that I wasn't hallucinating," I said. I moved further into the room, sitting on the edge of my bed to watch her. She was forced to yank several t-shirts out from under my arse and she smacked me with them.

"Prick. How was therapy?"

"It was therapy," I shrugged. "but I'm getting somewhere, I think."

"Good. I hope you don't mind how many drawers I took, I had a lot more stuff than I thought."

"Nah, it's fine," I mentioned. "but Jesus, is this every single item of clothing you own?"

"I forgot about this penguin jumper, to be honest," Emma snorted, glancing down at herself.

"Just curious, but anything on underneath that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She leaned forward and kissed me swiftly over the cardigan she was currently holding. She pressed hard and deep and I gasped a little, lifting a hand to cup her neck. I kissed her back just as vigorously, but soon she slapped my hand away. She was red in the face as she smiled and pulled back. "Hey," she added.

"Hey," I grinned. "So you're still going to the Cursebreaker gala tonight, then?"

She groaned, tossing the cardigan at me so that she could rub her eyes. I remembered having to wake her up on the sofa a week or so ago and realised that that was becoming more and more common lately. "I was hoping to get out of it, but you know what the thing is like."

"Well, your boss _is_ faintly terrifying!"

"Exactly," Emma said. She glanced back up and added, "Look, I'm sorry. It's the site in Gibraltar that's got me up at all hours, we lost an entire shipment and it's been a nightmare trying to sort it out."

"Wait, how do you lose an entire shipment of old dead stuff?"

"The fuck if I know!" Emma threw up her hands, along with several of the shirts she'd picked up. "Thank Merlin I'm not the project leader, that's Lila's job. Poor girl's been hung up by her toenails over this."

"Oh, I'll bet," I mentioned. "Forgive me, but this doesn't seem like the best time to be throwing the annual Cursebreaker gala?"

"You're tellin' me," Emma huffed, throwing herself down onto the bed by my side. She tucked her legs up half over my lap and I was rather suddenly reminded of the fact that this woman currently didn't have any pants on. "The gala isn't even supposed to be this early in the year! We don't normally have it until at least mid-September, but I'm pretty convinced that the Director's bumped it up a few weeks solely to use it as a PR opportunity. Y'know, for getting back into everyone's good books and pretending everything's fine."

I threw my arms over her legs as I turned to look at her. "Well lucky you, I don't have an active case at the moment!" I pointed out. "I can still come."

"In what bloody universe would you want to come?" Emma snorted.

Ok, so maybe last year I was a bit reluctant, but you could you blame me? At that point Emma had hated me, Libby had been eight months pregnant and James being out of the country had been the only reason I'd gone! … blimey, had it really only been a year since then? It felt like so much shit had happened that it had to have been longer, surely …

"Oi, I came last time."

"Yeah, only because Libby was as big as a house and couldn't stand up by herself," Emma almost laughed. "God, that takes me back! It was after we broke up the first time, right?"

Her casual words stabbed me somewhere. Yes, this time last year we had barely even been known each other, let alone were anything even closely resembling friends. We honestly _had_ gone through a lot within the last 12 months. I barely recognised last-year Fred! I sat there on my bed with her, watching her sigh as she clearly contemplated the rest of her wardrobe that she still had to go through and I only panicked a little as I said,

"I … I dunno, I don't really remember …"

"I still haven't forgiven Lib for not telling me she was bringing ya."

"We both kind of flipped our shits, I guess."

"God, I hated ya then," Emma was smirking a little as she reluctantly rolled off me and back to her feet. She picked up one of the work shirts she had tossed before. "Honestly, though, you really don't have to come tonight."

"Oh, come on. Isn't that what you keep me around for?" I asked.

"Nah, I keep you around 'cause you're happy to do all the cleanin' around here," Emma grinned. "Seriously, I don't know what made me think sorting this shit was a good idea. I've picked out the robes I'm wearin', I should just charm the drawers to magically hold everything else and be done with it. Sure, I might never be able to find what I need, but that's what _Accio_ 's for, right?"

"You have never sorted out clothes in your life, have you?"

"I have no idea what you mean."

"When was the last time you ironed this?" I took hold of her wrist and made her hold up the work shirt in her hands.

Emma just made a high pitched _mmm_ sound and I cried, "OH MY GOD. You need serious help. Let's get fucking onto this–"

"I wanted to take a break, actually," Emma whined. "C'mon, I've been doing this all day–"

"And you'll be doing it all tomorrow as well if I don't help!"

"Freeeeed …" She gave me that Look.

Oh, fuck you, Emma.

I knew exactly where her mind had gone within those few seconds and normally I would agree and say screw the clothes. But my inner clean freak couldn't take the mess anymore and if this woman was seriously moving her shit in here, then she was doing it with a little finesse! Unfortunately, Emma didn't seem to be thinking that way. She let the shirt in her hands flutter to the floor as she slowly approached once more.

"NOPE."

"Are you telling me you'd seriously rather sort clothes," She climbed up onto the bed and into my lap, bare legs wrapping around my waist. "than fuck me?"

"When you put it like that …" I muttered sarcastically, but she started kissing at my neck then, slowly moving her hips and I tried not to groan. "EMMA. Emma, seriously, we really need to do this–"

"Mmm, we do."

"Not _that_."

"I promise we'll sort out later."

"No, we won't," I grumbled, my arms going around her of their own accord. "You'll ride me within an inch of your life then pass out until you have to get ready for the damn gala and _I'll_ be forced to do it all myself! You're not doing that to me–"

But she reached my lips then and for several moments, I forgot about arguing. Her hands slid around to my face and she kissed like if she did it enough, then she might be able to climb inside and never come out of it. Maybe it was the whole drawer thing. She placed one of her hands on my chest and then not-so-gently shoved me back onto the bed. I may have let out a slight squeak.

Oh, ok. So who cared about some clothes on the floor. That was what magic was for, right?

* * *

You know, for all the complaining about said poncy gala that always involved uncomfortable robes and uncomfortable conversations with uncomfortable people, Libby sure was making the most of this thing. I watched with amusement as she practically flung Emma around on the dance floor with her.

"Maybe it's because she's not pregnant this time?" I mentioned, and James snorted next to me.

"I forgot how annoying this thing was," he said. "and somehow, it's even worse when it done for the sole purpose of damage control."

Libby and Emma's boss – otherwise known at the terrifying Director Gale – had been nothing but fake smiles and 'everything's fiiiiine!' all night. Hell, the man had even shaken my hand earlier mistaking me as an investor, which really had to be saying something about where his stress levels were right now. Neil Blunt, Sarah's husband, had started throwing back the cocktails around two hours ago and James and I weren't all that far behind.

"It's time to drown out the madness – here, mate –" Neil had said earlier, holding out the champagne glass to me.

I'd eyed it reluctantly at first and I had noticed James about two seconds away from coming up with a convenient excuse if I wanted it, but Hannah had reminded me to think about the future. I wanted my life back.

I'd taken the glass and hadn't worried at all.

"So who's looking after the Tiny Human?" I asked James.

"Al and Bea," he answered. "They'd take her all night if they could."

"Still waiting for kids of their own?"

"You know, weirdly enough they didn't say," James was smiling a little into his champagne. "Normally they don't shut up if you ask but this time, there was surprisingly not a lot to report …"

"Makes you wonder if they're waiting to see if something will pan out."

"It does a bit, yeah."

James and I watched Sarah break away from where she was dancing with her husband to catch up with her friends on the dance floor. Every now and then one would warn the others and they would hastily break apart and pretend to be mingling like they were supposed to be before eventually congregating back together. They were so in synch that you'd think that they'd been running drills for such a thing! I watched Emma grab Sarah's hand in thanks as James then nudged my shoulder.

"So, champagne then?"

"It's no big," I just shrugged.

"Seems like it to me," James said. "but just say if you don't wanna talk about it, mate."

Aside from Scorpius, Emma and Hannah Maeve, James was probably the only other person who knew how dangerously close I'd gotten to endangering my own life. I hadn't wanted to say anything at first, but James had _always_ been there, you know? If I couldn't tell him that, I couldn't tell him anything, and that certainly wasn't ok. "It's not that it's not a big deal," I said. "It's just … it's still not been that long. At the moment I feel pretty good, but I might not tomorrow, James."

"I know that," he frowned.

"Nah, you didn't. But you do now," I said back. "Look, I'm drinking because I've figured that this is gonna be a long road, and I'm not letting it stop me from living my life the way I want. But it doesn't also mean that everything's magically fixed."

"I'm sorry."

"James, shut the fuck up, it's fine," I shoved him lightly. "I never even ask how you're doing. Do you miss him?"

I could see him hesitate. Everyone always does. They want to talk, they want to answer, but they don't want to seem like they consider how they feel any worse than how Roxanne or I must feel. But I just stood there expectedly and eventually, James said,

"Yeah, I do. It's weird without him."

I nodded, both of us going silent a few moments. It wasn't awkward, but I was glad when Sarah abandoned her husband for her girls, and Neil happily made his way over to join us at the edge of the dancefloor. "Not too bad, this year!" he called out in greeting. "Everyone's too busy trying to keep up a happy face than to bother checking that the Cursebreakers are schmoozing with the investors. The girls seem happy enough, anyway."

"Eh, I don't buy it," James said. "Something always goes wrong at this thing!"

"You weren't even here last year."

"Yeah, because I was sent overseas and forced to leave behind my very pregnant girlfriend who could have gone into labour at any minute," James snorted. "Then, the year before that, I got my arse kicked by Libby's ex."

"Clearly you didn't do something right if you got your arse kicked," Neil laughed.

"Look, I'm a Quidditch player," James said, indignantly. "I'm built to whack balls at people, not use my fists, ok?"

"Suuuure thing, mate."

"I won't forget that night," James glanced at me then, a slight smirk on his face. "That's actually the first time I ever met Emma, now that I remember."

"Trust me, you won't forget that any time soon," I shook my head.

"Oh, right, you guys are the two who go out, but never actually talk about it, right?" Neil asked.

"I'd give him some warning before you say anything like that, mate," James laughed, thumping me on the back as I accidentally inhaled champagne. "He's a bit sensitive these days."

"Fuck you," I choked out.

"But that IS you guys, right?" Neil pressed.

"Fuck all of you!" My throat was still a little raspy, but I managed it. "Maybe it is, maybe we're just chill the way things are, _thank you_."

" _Still haven't said I love you, though_ – OUCH!" James cringed from the punch I threw his way.

"How long have you been together?" Neil asked in amusement.

"Too long," James said.

"I'm not talking about this, just putting it out there!" I called out at large.

"See, Neil, they've been kind of on and off," James threw an arm around the other man's shoulders, pulling him in as the bastard continued to explain, "They were sleeping together for a while, but then they broke up. They were friends for a while and then that ALSO blew up. Now they've been together like, what? A few months?" James asked me quizzically.

"I will murder you as you sleep."

"Yeah, a few months," James simply carried on. "Doesn't mean the moron still shouldn't stay it, though."

"Saying it's a big deal," Neil nodded knowingly, like the dude totally just got it. "I still remember first telling Sarah."

"You're forgetting that I'VE ACTUALLY SAID IT BEFORE?" I felt the need to strongly point out here.

James just pulled away from Neil so that he could knock back the last of his champagne. "We both know that doesn't count."

"But she's never said it!" I said. "NEVER."

"Libby didn't tell me until we were at least two months in," James just shrugged.

But we weren't James and Libby, nor were we Neil and Sarah. We were Fred and Emma, goddamn it! We had a way of doing things, and the fuck if I knew what was supposed to happen next. That was how we worked, right? We didn't plan anything! It was nothing until suddenly, it was something. We didn't kiss goodbye until suddenly, we did. We never held hands until one time, we did. Everything we were, it was a gradual change and maybe … maybe I was just overthinking everything. Like, literally anything had to be better than the first time I'd said it! … right?

Oh, fuck. I am so dead. My heart was racing and I could feel that familiar heartburn coming back ( _oh, joy_ ). James and Neil were both laughing about something else now, thankfully leaving me to Panic in peace, but all I could remember was Hannah saying don't plan. Just let it happen when it happens. But how the hell was I supposed to know when that was?!

Christ, how was I EVER going to say this?

* * *

Incredibly, the rest of the gala went by without anything the least bit dramatic happening! No, seriously. No exes turned up, no one kissed when they shouldn't have, and everyone got home in one piece, if a bit exhausted from all the pretend-having-fun they'd had.

("Just think! Because they had it early this time, it's over a full year until the next one?" I'd tried to point out the positive that night once we'd gotten home.

Emma had just collapsed face first into bed in response).

Anyway. The words I couldn't say were still in my head a couple of days later, when I traipsed in after work. My days as a bail enforcement agent were numbered now. I literally only had three days left being on-duty, as there was only three weeks until Auror training started and my boss had practically insisted that I have a holiday before I get to then (although … knowing my luck, I'd get a jumper on the third day who I'd end up having to chase to fucking Nottingham or something). Luckily Emma wasn't asleep this time, although the intense workload had now appeared to have spread into the kitchen as well as the lounge.

"Blimey, and I thought the clothing explosion was bad …" I said in greeting.

"Oh, god. Sorry–" Emma hastily gathered several pieces of paper from their scattered places around the kitchen table, hastily making room for me as I sat down next to her. "I didn't mean to take over the kitchen, I swear!"

"What the hell is all this, more work stuff?"

Emma just grumbled, threading a hand into her curly hair. "At this point, I wish. It's actually tax stuff. Apparently, I have to 'update my records' or something."

"Ouch."

"You get me."

"I'll make you tea."

She managed a smile at least as I brushed past, squeezing her shoulder along the way. She chattered absently as I waited for the kettle to boil, so used to making one tea, one coffee at this point that I could probably do it with my eyes shut. This was a nice moment, right? This could be it. If I could just get the words out, it would be done and it would be sweet, and memorable and … over _tax returns_ , Fred?

I REALLY AM A MORON.

So intent on my internal dramas, I hadn't quite noticed that Emma had stopped talking until the kettle shrieked. There was suddenly silence when I shut it up, and I glanced around at her as I poured the water. She stared at one form extremely hard, the quill in her hand looking like it was on the verge of snapping. She didn't look like she was in some kind of mortal peril, but her eyebrows were furrowed, like something wasn't quite making sense.

"Not sure what that quill did to ya, but you know a pen is probably easier to use these days, right?" I threw out there.

Emma gave a sudden start, which made me stare. "What? OH. Yeah … I dunno, something about tax returns demands being official."

"Are you all right?"

I dunno what it was, but she looked weird. Or maybe acting weird was more accurate, except I couldn't exactly say why. She'd just been looking at that form so intently and now she seemed distracted and hell, maybe it was just my inner Auror trying to come out before it had even been properly trained. Settle down, mate, you don't know shit yet, ok?

But Emma suddenly stood.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm all good," she insisted, but she was hastily shoving all the tax return forms into a haphazard pile before picking up her jacket off the back of her chair. "But, um – shit, I forgot I was supposed to go see Charmaine tonight! I'll catch you later, yeah?"

"Uh … wait, yeah …?" I watched her in bewilderment as she yanked her jacket on and checked for her wand in one fluid motion. Literally before I could say anymore, she disappeared on the spot.

DID THAT GIRL JUST FUCKING DISAPPARATE ON ME?

In a second, I was across the kitchen and quickly skim-reading the form Emma had been looking at. I was further baffled, because there was legit nothing out of the ordinary there, nothing that might freak her out! I read and it was all just standard personal information like name, date of birth, address, tax number …

I don't think I'll ever understand that woman.

(Eh, I'm all right with that).

* * *

A/N: HEEEEYYYYYYOOOOOO

Guess who takes over a month to update? THIS GIRL! ... look, I'm super sorry but at least when I finally sat down to write this I went all _'*cracks knuckles* let's do this shit'_ so I might actually update quicker this next time? ? ? I know. WHAAAAAAT (you'll believe it when you see it hahahaha).  
Either way, I thank you for your patience and if you're reading this, I thank you for still being with me after all this time.

I wanted to show Fred getting better without being perfect yet, so here's hoping I managed to convey that (Side Note: I've been to therapy before, but not because of losing a parent/feeling suicidal, so please forgive me/inform me better if anything that's portrayed in this chapter and/or any others is inaccurate).

ALSO, YOU MAY FIND THE NEXT CHAPTER IS FROM SOMEONE ELSE'S POV WHAAAT WHO COULD IT BE AAAYYYYYYYYYY

Literally thank you. That's all I can say, Jesus Christ, _thank you_. We're gonna get to the end of this fic even if it kills me and you guys who read and comment are why I'm still doing this so many years after GIR!

Please let me know what you think. I love yall!  
Moon. xoxo

PS. Thank you so much for the birthday wishes and Happy Easter to anyone who celebrates it!


	36. That one time Emma called a code blue

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

 _Emma's POV, yo_

* * *

Chapter 36: That one time Emma called a code blue.

Why, hello.

My name is Emma, and I live with a boy.

"Why the hell are you knocking?" Charmaine deadpanned the second she opened the door.

Oh, Charmaine. I loved the girl so much. We'd first met when she'd responded to my flatmate wanted ad and admittedly at first, I hadn't been sure that we'd ever get along. One wouldn't exactly describe the woman as _chipper_ or _friendly_ or hell, even _nice_. Charmaine was known for her sarcasm, resting bitch face and the running joke over whether or not she had once killed a man (to this day, I still cannot tell if she's being serious). But there hadn't been anything technically wrong with her so naturally, being me, I couldn't find a way of saying no without being rude. So in she moved!

But she actually ended up staying.

I honestly don't know where along the lines we learned to put up with one another. Whenever she wanted calm and quiet, I'd be busy screaming at my brother and sister. When I was exhausted, she would be blasting her terrible indie music to deafening levels. But somehow, somewhere down the road, Charmaine had developed a 'hurt Emma Terry and you die' kind of attitude and I would likewise kill for her. My flatmate also quite unapologetically hated Fred, as I think we all know, but I didn't blame her for that. We'd only been flatmates for two months when I'd first met him. I'd practically crawled home that early November first morning, my mummy costume in a rather dishevelled manor and had unfortunately encountered Charmaine in the hallway.

"Oh my god, are you only just getting back?" she'd asked in amazement.

I'd nodded, trying not to cringe.

"Must've been one hell of a Halloween party."

"I … I might have gone home with someone dressed as a barbarian," I'd admitted.

Charmaine had blinked a couple times. Then, she'd crossed her arms over her pyjama top, a kind of game face on. "Already sounds like an arsehole. Were you safe?"

"Blimey, Char."

She'd just shrugged before amazingly, smiling a little. "I hope you had fun, Emma."

I'd smiled back. So the woman did care, after all!

"Tell him if he hurts you in anyway, I'll fucking destroy him," she'd added.

"Oh, I am never seeing him again, _trust me_ ," I'd scoffed loudly.

HA. Yeah.

"About that …" I wasn't quite sure what to tell Charmaine now, but thankfully the woman seemed to understand when I was being weird by this point. She just dragged me inside. I glanced around my too small, still too expensive, still grotty flat and almost felt nostalgic about it. Hell, I'd first moved in here a couple of months after leaving Mark. It might have looked like a step down to most people, but to me this place was perfect! It was home. Charmaine practically threw me down onto the sofa and asked, "Tea?"

"Actually, yeah," I said, realising that I'd never actually drunk whatever Fred had been in the middle of making for me.

"Get it yourself then," Charmaine rolled her eyes.

"God, I love you."

"I'd ask 'what's up' but I'm doubtful you could even explain at this point," she said, folding her arms tightly and sitting down next to me. "I've been meaning to talk to you, actually."

"I'm sorry I haven't really been around lately."

"It's fine, neither have I," Charmaine mentioned. "It's just … Leah and I are moving in together."

"What, that's amazin'!" I cried. "Holy shit, Char!"

"Ew …" my flatmate complained as I practically leapt the sofa to hug her fiercely.

"Oh, hush, you gotta take this one," I grinned.

"I regret saying anything."

"No, you don't," I smirked into her shoulder. Charmaine and her girlfriend, Leah, had been talking about moving in together for at least a year. I pulled back to see just the hint of happiness on her face. "So go on! What finally got you guys to do it?"

"Lease came up on this place," she mentioned. "Felt like the right time, I guess."

"Oh shit, the lease came up?" I asked. "I didn't even know that–"

"Yeah, maybe because this is hardly your address anymore," Charmaine said. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm moving out, and the landlord needs to know whether you want to renew or not by next Tuesday."

Ah … fuck.

Look, this hadn't exactly been how I'd planned my night to go! No, really. I'm all about fun, right? I'm totally ready to get down, but then I'd gotten the tax return forms demanding that I update my information because apparently, this was the third address it had tried to reach me at (or something, I don't know). Like I didn't have enough to do lately, but honestly everything had been going fine! … until I'd reached a certain part of the page:

 _Full name: Emma Louise Terry._

 _Date of birth: 10.07.04._

 _Current residential address:_

And that was when I'd blanched, because I'd automatically started to write Fred's address.

Like … FRED'S address.

 _FRED'S FUCKING ADDRESS_.

I mean, shitballs, this was a big deal. A BIG, BIG deal! Like yes, ok, I wasn't supposed to be the one who flipped out over relationship shit like this, that was Fred. The poor boy hadn't known what had hit him the second I waltz into his life! (Or did he waltz into mine? Some days I'm not so sure). It was scary, and like any other person in the world I had baggage too, but out of the two of us, _someone_ needed to be the sane one. That person was supposed to be me.

But the last time I had lived with a boy, it had _not_ gone well.

"Fuck," I muttered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Oh, come on," Charmaine said, flatly. "You practically live with him already, just make it bloody official so we can both finally leave this dump behind."

"Hey! I love this dump!"

"It's still a dump."

"Don't you be disgracin' the hallowed place where we first met," I pointed a finger at her.

"Seriously. You only have to be a grown up for however long it takes you to say, 'hey Fred, just letting you know my lease it up at my old place so I'm moving in with you. Ok? Ok'," Charmaine shot me a look. "That took less than thirty seconds, I swear."

"This is FRED you're talking about!"

"Bloody hell, what in the fucking world ever made you fall for that bloke?"

"I … look, he was seriously hot in that barbarian costume, ok?"

"I'll take your word for it," Charmaine said. "I mean, I won't pretend it hasn't been amusing hearing about all the drama the last couple years, but I know for a fact that you're ready for this. I might hate him, and he'll always be a bit of a douchebag, but he worships the ground you walk on. Just move in with him already? Please?"

I just sat there, helplessly.

Look, terrified sixteen-year-old Emma getting her first ever kiss would have never guessed she'd end up here. Flirty, optimistic 19-year-old Emma never would have guessed she'd end up here. Wary, cautiously hopeful 25-year-old Emma DEFINITELY never would have guessed she'd end up here! But here I was, about to throw my heart out on the line for the billionth time, for a ridiculous boy who barely even knew how to function outside basic human needs!

God, he was a Mess. A hot, hot mess, but shit, at the end of the day he was mine.

"I'll talk to him," I said, weakly. "I'll probably die doing it, but … I'll talk to him, I swear."

"Before Tuesday?"

I sighed. "Before Tuesday. Now since we only have a few days left of being flatmates," I grabbed a cushion from the floor, shoving it against Charmaine's side before leaning into her. "I think it's appropriate that we have one last _Star Wars_ marathon together!"

"Oh hell fucking no."

"Chaaaaar, you know you can't resist."

"Fine," Charmaine huffed. "but only if you finally admit that you low-key ship Luke and Han."

I just snorted. "Oh come on, I've just been messing with ya. Honestly, who doesn't?"

* * *

So hello, serious conversation! I want to have you, I truly do. I see you, I wanna give you the time you deserve, but I present in your path: _Fred Fucking Weasley_.

God, that man.

Sometimes, I wish I'd never had the balls to flirt back when we'd first met. Sometimes, I wish that I'd still been so fucked up that I'd never date anyone else ever again but of course, that line of thinking only lasted until he made me tea, or kissed my neck or did some other dumb thing that made my heart go into spasms. I wanted to talk to him! No, I really did, but he's been so much better lately ( _lord, I'd almost had a heart attack when he'd first come home from the hospital … he'd looked like a ghost_ ). But he was really only just starting to laugh again. He'd been talking about his dad and it was helping and sometimes, I'd catch him just looking at me like … _you know?_ He was getting there. I didn't want to ruin that, I couldn't!

Hence the reason I found myself getting to _Monday_ (!) on the verge of FREAKING THE SHIT OUT.

I burst into the lab in a flurry of clipboards, unwashed hair and stained robes, practically screeching,

"IT'S A CODE FUCKING BLUE!"

Sarah Blunt, currently balls deep in an autopsy, barely looked up.

"Oh, hey Emma," she said airily.

"Why am I bothering with you?" I cried. "Where's Libby?"

" _In the fridge_!" a muffled voice came from the vague direction of the chilled cupboard that we kept all sorts of varying specimens in. I could see the waft of cold air seeping out and waited impatiently for Libby to emerge in a giant one-size-fits-all coat and a steel box in her arms.

"So tell me," Libby said, kicking the fridge door behind her closed with a heel. "Is this a dramatic Code Blue, or for real?"

"I LIVE WITH FRED," I blurted out.

Sarah and Libby suddenly exchanged looks.

"I'll get the doors! I think there's wine in the fridge!" Libby yelled as suddenly, the girls burst into a frantic flurry of motion. She practically threw the box onto the nearest autopsy table and skidded towards the door of the lab at top speed.

"Why is there wine in the fucking lab fridge?!" Sarah cried, even as she was vanishing the blood off her hands and hurtling for it.

"WHY DO YOU THINK WE HAVE CODE BLUE TO BEGIN WITH?"

"I think we needa start holdin' emergency drills again," I said in amusement, leaning an elbow next to the head of Sarah's buddy, who seemed to be a 300 year old Caucasian male, if I wasn't mistaken. "We're losin' our touch!"

"… _good god, there is actually wine in here_ ," Sarah's disembodied voice came from the fridge.

"You bet your arse there is!" Libby hurtled back to my side, shucking off the giant coat along the way. She slid to a halt and slammed her hands down on her mostly clear autopsy table, just as Sarah dashed in with a wine bottle and sent it skidding down the table. Thankfully, Libby caught it before it could go crashing over the edge.

"AND TIME!" Sarah yelled.

I glanced at my watch. "Congrats, ladies, I believe that was less than a minute."

"A minute?" Sarah looked disgusted with herself. "Drills sound about right."

"All right, let's just get into this," Libby said, using her wand to uncork what looked like a bottle of the cheapest wine you could buy. "We don't have glasses, sorry, unless you want to drink out of some test tubes?"

"Just gimme the bottle," I said, taking it from her once it was opened. I mean, let's face it, I'm totally classy. I'm drinking out the bloody bottle. "Now, please, reassure me that I'm not gonna die!"

"Look, Emma honey," Sarah and Libby exchanged looks again as I shared the disgusting wine over the autopsy table. I know. That's such an image. "I dunno what to say. We could've told you that you were living with Fred."

"Libby?" I threw a hand at her.

" _Well_ ," she stressed. "I mean, come on! Literally tell me the last time you went home?"

"Saturday, actually, I'll have you know!" I practically yelled. "I mean … look, I went to talk to Charmaine and apparently, our lease is up! So hey, guess what, she's decided to move in with her girlfriend which is great for her, only that leaves me with realising that holy shit, I now have to somehow let Fred know that ' _hey, by the way, I actually live with you now, can you let your landlord know? Cheers, mate!'_ "

Both of them just cracked into laughter. BITCHES, I'M HAVING A CRISIS HERE.

"Oh my god," Libby was practically sobbing.

"Oh, fuck you guys," I huffed. "Stop laughin'! The only things I still had left in that place was my furniture, a pair of running shoes and some old textbooks."

"Girl, you're not making this any less funny," Libby grinned, rubbing her eyes.

"Honestly, Charmaine thought that I'd already moved out!"

"Well … haven't you?" Sarah asked.

Had I? Of course the answer was yes. That was why we were here gossiping around an autopsy table, right? Because after everything that had happened with the man, everything we'd been through – sex, drinking, death, yelling, and crying – we still spent every single night together. Home didn't feel like my ugly but beautiful to me cosy flat anymore. No, for some reason, home had become the one-man bachelor pad that was kept irritatingly clean and was decorated with GODDAMN flamingo umbrella stands!

Home was … wherever he was.

I groaned, hanging my head and Sarah rubbed my shoulder sweetly, passing back the wine. "Drink up, girl," she said, gently. "I promise, it gets better."

"Easy for you to say, you're married," I grumbled, eventually lifting my head.

Sarah just laughed. "Yeah, and at one point we weren't."

"Bitch, you're the only one here who's had anything even closely resembling a normal relationship," Libby laughed.

"Ok, fine, we met, we went out, we moved in together, we got married," Sarah shrugged. "But I had doubts too. No, we didn't accidentally get pregnant, or just carry on blindly without ever talking about anything," she shot us both looks and Libby hastily opened her steel box of remains that she'd pulled earlier from the fridge. Uh-huh, sure girl, like you could pretend that we're doing actually work here. "But no matter what your circumstances are, relationships are tough. They take work. Emma, I love you like a mama hen loves her baby chicks, but you gotta talk to the boy."

I sighed, handing the now half-empty bottle of wine back to Sarah. "Any chance I can just carry on pretending that I still have a flat to go back to if this all goes south?"

"EMMA."

"I take it that's a no?" I said, hastily.

"JUST TALK TO HIM, holy shit woman," Sarah said, throwing her hands in the air.

"I'm not gonna dispute that, but also just letting you know that I think we can probs lift the Code Blue now," I mentioned lightly, and Libby snorted, flicking her wand to unlock the lab door. "You know, I think I've actually forgotten what our other codes were and whether I even picked the right one."

"It goes Code Blue, Code Red, then Code Black," Libby answered without even looking up. "I believe we defined Code Blue as 'emotionally, my life is going balls up and I need my girls'. Code Red is 'I fucked up, or someone else did, and now I need immediate assistance'. We save Code Black for 'I'M DYING'."

"I dunno, maybe I did pick the wrong code …"

"Emma," Libby snorted over her remains. "Literally, listen to Sarah the Love Goddess! Talk to the boy about your relationship, or I will stab you with this fossilised femur."

I didn't doubt that. I watched as Libby started compiling notes on her external exam of the newest remains sent to the lab, while Sarah discovered that she'd accidentally left the recording of her own autopsy going the entire time. "I'll erase that," she told me hastily, prodding the device with her wand that would rewind back to before I'd come in screaming Code Blue. My girls were beautiful, amazing souls, but they both thought this was so damn simple! TALK TO HIM? I mean, I know I had to give my landlord an answer literally by tomorrow, but still.

HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TALKING TO FRED WEASLEY ABOUT YOUR RELATIONSHIP?

"Emma, you might wanna get to work," Libby pointed out eventually. "Director Gale will have ya by the balls if your team doesn't find that missing shipment!"

"I'm scheduled for assisting today, someone else can handle that colossal fuck up," I waved a hand dismissively.

"I still can't believe you guys managed to lose an entire shipment, how does that even happen?" Sarah laughed.

"It wasn't me who was in charge!" I insisted for about the tenth time. "It was fuckin' Lila, _she's_ the one who got the boot."

"Did they actually fire her?" Sarah asked, looking up. "Shiiiiit."

"I KNOW," I said. "I mean, she was a bitch, but bitch got stuff done."

"Who knows, maybe you'll get promoted now," Sarah pointed out with a grin.

Libby was the one who scoffed. "Not bloody likely, since you're still just hanging out by my autopsy table. This doesn't count as 'assisting' by the way," she added, waving her wand for emphasis. "Hell, James could do a better job than you and he's terrified of dead things."

"Oh, look, have you seriously ever had an in-depth conversation about your feelin's with Fred Weasley?" I grumbled.

"You'd be surprised!" Libby mentioned. "I remember we had a real heart-to-heart at the top of the London Eye, once."

"What, when was that?" I asked, amused at the thought.

"Oh, it was before he met you, I think," Libby wrinkled her nose. "Maybe two years ago now? James was forcing us to hang out because he wanted us to like each other. Fred told me that he never wanted a relationship and he was perfectly fine with it."

"That makes me feel better."

"It should!" Sarah called over.

"Yeah," Libby agreed. "Think, that was two years ago and look where he's at now. He's basically cohabitating with his serious girlfriend and is apparently completely happy with it!"

"Whoa, ok, that's just a whole bunch of labels I couldn't even begin to go near," I grimaced.

"You couldn't?" Libby raised an eyebrow. "Or you won't because you're afraid that Fred couldn't?"

* * *

I'd made a joke out of Libby's accusation.

Like haha, it's ok, we don't need no commitment up in here, I'm too busy trying to focus on the whole 'living together' concept! I managed to swing the conversation back to work and the day had carried on like normal. We all did our jobs and we all went home at the end of it, but _come on_. Of course I was afraid! If I didn't fear that it would send Fred running for the bloody hills of Africa, of course I'd be calling him my boyfriend. Or partner or some other term that fit, because I'm 27 for crying out loud, I deserve something more committed at this age! But as long as he refused to address anything, so did I, because we all know what happens when I push.

He throws up a brick wall.

I actually remember a time I nearly called him my boyfriend in public. It was the most mundane thing I've ever done, just food shopping hastily on a Wednesday night because there were several things we'd run out of and I had yelled as I was leaving for work that morning if there was anything he wanted. I'd stood amongst the dairy shelves at the supermarket and asked an employee where the soy milk was.

"I'm afraid we don't have many options for soy at the moment, our suppliers are renegotiating deals," the employee had admitted. "Are you vegan? Because I think we have rice or nut milk which would work–"

"Oh no, it's fine," I'd simply waved a hand. "We can drink regular milk, my–"

 _My boyfriend's just being picky._

I, of course, had awkwardly cut myself off mid-sentence. The employee noticed, but bless 'em, didn't say anything, just smiled and carried on their job like normal. Meanwhile, I had stood amongst the milk, quite possibly having an emotional breakdown, because HAHAHAHAHAHA.

WHAT DID I JUST CALL HIM?!

I had never been more struck than in that moment that I was in a fucking relationship. I was in an honest to god, sex and affection, sharing groceries and toothbrushes sat next to each other kind of relationship! For the first time since Mark, I had actually let myself be at the complete mercy of someone else. I had been 100% prepared to be perpetually single for the longest time after him, as there was no way I was letting myself get taken in by yet another manipulative asshat, and we all know how good at one night stands I am. But then I had met Fred and … _he was it_. He was the one I was buying groceries for on a Wednesday after work. I was going to go home after this to his flat, where now we apparently both lived! THIS WAS A FUCKING RELATIONSHIP.

Hell, I don't think Fred even realises it.

But I can't completely discredit him. I'd had way too many of my own meltdowns to do that. As I mentioned, I know I come off as the sane one on the outside, but on the inside I promise ya that 90% of the time I was a seething mess of terrified panicking! What if he never even cared? What if I pushed too hard and he ran? What if he never loved me? What if, what if, _what if,_ and that's not even considering my Mark Issues! I tried to not talk about him anymore because honestly, I REALLY didn't need that shit coming up again. But every now and then his face would stupidly pop up and I'd remember oh, that's right, the last time I did this, I'd gotten well and truly Fucked Over and _Jesus Christ,_ surely I wasn't doing this to myself again? Fred had never pressed for the whole story, and I adored him for it, but what if he suddenly did, one day? There was no way I could say no, but there was also no way I wanted to tell Fred what had exactly happened.

Because if I did, _he would know_. He would know how sucked in I got, how far gone I'd been, and he'd ask the typical questions that literally anyone who found out would ask: 'Why didn't you leave him sooner?' 'How could you not tell what he was doing to you?' 'WHY DID YOU STAY?'

(I mean, I knew he wouldn't. I knew that Fred would never be that person, but a part of me still feared).

You want to know why I didn't leave him sooner?

Because the bloke was fucking NORMAL at first. That's always how it starts! We met and it was instant sparks. Butterflies. I was 23 and I'd just finished Cursebreaker training. I was excited, I was starting a new leg in my life, I mean _come on_. He must have realised what an easy target I was because it didn't take long for things to go downhill.

The thing is, you never notice at first. It starts small. 'You should wear the blue dress, babe, I love you in that one,' sounds harmless, until you realise that you never wear what you want. You wear what he wants. And if he doesn't like it, you take it off. 'It's ok, babe. I get you had a bad day. Your boss might hate you, but I love you,' sounds nice, but it's actually fucking dangerous. Eventually, it's not just your boss – everyone hates you. Even your friends. Even your siblings. But it's ok, because he loves you and that's all that matters. You come to depend on him, and then you _want_ to depend on him. You love him, he's your whole world and you don't even notice how toxic it is, how closed off you've become and how you never even see your friends anymore and you don't know why your brother is sending you an owl saying,

 _I'm coming round to talk to you tonight. Don't tell Mark._

But eventually, that did happen. It took a year. A year of slowly sinking away and becoming a shell of the Emma Terry I once was. I had absolutely no idea why I was so sad all the time, why I could never bring myself to enjoy anything anymore, why it felt difficult to breathe whenever I went home to our flat. My older brothers, Ben and Peter, had watched in astonishment that night, realising that I was the one who was cleaning the place, who cooked every night, and that I had absolutely no idea why. I hadn't even noticed that they'd picked a night that Mark was out until they'd sat me down and said,

"Emma, Mark is killing you."

I'd blinked slowly. " _What?_ "

"Not like …" my brothers had sat either side of me, Peter squeezing my shoulders as Ben spoke. "Ems, we haven't seen you in months. You never talk to us, hell, Mum and Dad don't even know where you're living!"

"I'm sorry, you know I suck at staying caught up–"

"No, you don't," Ben had cut in. "Emma, you are the one who bombards us all with owls, wanting to meet up. The last time we saw you was Christmas, and you nearly didn't go to that either!"

"I'm sorry, I'm just … I haven't been feeling that great lately and I just … I suck, I'm sorry …"

I'd truly felt that way. To me now, I want to kick myself because how could I honestly think feeling that way was normal, that it was just something I needed to accept and live with? My brother's had exchanged looks over my head, which had annoyed me, but it had also brought a spark to life because that's something they used to do all the time. I … I guess I hadn't seen it in a while.

I'd missed my brothers.

And they hadn't been afraid of saying it like it was.

"Look Emma, it's Mark," Peter had said furiously. "He is a dickhead, and he's manipulating you. You need you leave him, and you need to leave him now."

Shocked hadn't covered it. Imagine someone you love and trusted, your older brother who always did his best to protect you, suddenly telling ya that the most important person in your life was an arsehole who was treating you like shit? You don't believe them, right? Because that's exactly what I'd felt.

( _Blimey_ , 23-year-old Emma).

I know not to blame myself now, but it had taken a long time before I stopped. Naturally, I'd blown up at my brothers. I hadn't believed a word they said. No, Mark was kind, he was good to me, he looked after me and I loved him, damn it! But don't worry, it didn't take long after that. Now that I had the idea, I started seeing that no, it wasn't ok when he told me, 'I love you so much baby, but do that again and I will hurt you. I'm kidding!' I realised that I suddenly had all these expectations to uphold and I had no idea where they'd all come from. I had to do this, I had to do that, I was expected to be pretty and nice and calm and never question him, don't ask him where he's been, or why an owl from someone called Felicity accidentally got mixed in with our mail.

No, it wasn't right.

It _wasn't_ ok.

I never would have gotten out if it weren't for my brothers. A month after they'd tried to talk to me, I'd eventually gone to them, breaking down and crying and telling them how sorry I was. They'd hugged me, like big brothers do, and they'd promised that they'd help. I started seeing a therapist then, and if I'm being totally honest here, I only finally stopped seeing her a couple of weeks before I met Fred. Although, considering the drama there, I probably could've done with staying! Oh, Nancy. Woman was my saviour. Which reminds me, I gotta send her a gift basket one of these days.

Anyway, eventually I was strong enough to leave.

Ben and Peter helped me do it. Thing is, I think Mark noticed that I had finally caught on to what he was doing, because while before he could be gone for hours, even days at a time and I'd never question it, he suddenly switched to the opposite. He wouldn't leave me alone, even for a second. He'd pick me up from work, he'd drop me off, _he was always there_. Quite frankly, I was scared of his reaction. But my brothers and I picked a day, and they'd determinedly marched in with boxes and a suitcase in hand.

Sometimes I remember with glee the look on Mark's face when they had just launched into the flat and started packing my things for me. He'd tried to convince me to stay, he'd said literally everything, but the entire time I said nothing back. Eventually, he'd started yelling. Said fine, I can go, I've never needed you anyway, I have someone else who understands me more, she loves me more than you, blah, blah … honestly, I'd ceased to care at that point. The three of us had left and I had never looked back.

You know, I think the first thing I'd done once Ben and Peter had taken me back to my real home was sitting down and eating ice cream from the carton.

And that was when I'd realised that I hadn't eaten ice cream for over a year.

* * *

"I'm not stoppin', I'm not here!" I called out, just in case Fred was home. I quickly dashed for our bedroom, intent on just shedding my work clothes before hastily heading out again, but I'd barely gotten my robes off before I realised that Fred was unfortunately home already.

He glanced up in amusement from where he was apparently cleaning out the wardrobe. If there was only one thing that I couldn't fault him for, it was that the boy certainly did know how to clean! I paused a moment, taking in his newly cropped dark hair, the slightly-too-small t-shirt and jeans over what I knew was a _ridiculously_ good-looking body and YIKES, GIRL. Blimey, my head was getting waaaay too full of sentimental bullshit to be thinking clearly, here!

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"Nope, ignore me, I'm not here!" I said quickly, dumping my robes onto the floor before starting to undo my shirt. "I'm just gettin' changed and heading out again – don't watch me!"

"Wait, why can't I watch you?"

"Because I know you, and I don't want to end up bent over that bed there, I got no time for that shit," I warned.

Fred just rolled his eyes, sitting back on the floor and not taking his eyes off me. Bastard. "When does that ever happen?"

"Shut up," I just continued stripping, throwing my shirt at him as I went to find clothes in the drawers that belonged to me because OH, THAT'S RIGHT, I LIVE HERE NOW. He pulled the shirt off his head, watching me as I yanked out the first set of clothes I could find.

"So what's the hurry?" he asked.

"Said I'd visit Mum and Dad, but work ran late."

"Found that missing shipment yet?"

"Like hell have they," I snorted. "but get this, there's talks about promoting someone else since Lila got fired over it."

"They _fire_ people over lost mummies?"

"We're serious about our mummies."

"Reckon you'll get it?" Fred grinned as I jumped into a pair of jeans. I wrinkled my nose at the thought.

"Nah, why would they promote me?"

"'cause you're brilliant?" Fred tossed out. "Or, I dunno, you look hot in that uniform? C'mon, Emma, why wouldn't they?"

I paused in pulling my top over my head. Fred Weasley was many, many things – over-confidant, emotionally stunted, disgusting, loud, and idiotic, to name a few – but unwaveringly supportive was something that didn't get pointed out often enough. Bloody Merlin, Fred. See, THIS was how I'd ended up here! This had been one of the reasons I'd fallen for him in the first place. Fred had clearly come a long way from the barbarian I'd first met. I mean, let's face it, I'd probably had a crush from the moment he first asked me who I was hiding from, but it had been a couple of weeks into casually sleeping together – you know, back when he was a slut, and I was a disaster– when I'd first started to realise who this man actually was and what, exactly, I'd gotten myself into.

You have bad days. But then there are _shitty days_ , and I'd had the shittiest of them all at one point. After debating for hours over whether to simply use him as an outlet or not (like, wasn't that the whole point of sleeping with him? Don't think, JUST DO ITTTT) I'd eventually owled and naturally fucked him senseless. He hadn't questioned it, he hadn't pried, but instead had silently rolled over and let me have the entire pillow until I was ready to leave. I'd just stared at him in that moment. He could claim to have no soul, and sometimes I agreed with him, but he clearly had a heart somewhere in there and that's when I'd first thought:

 _Ohhhh, shit, I am in SO much trouble …_

I think Fred caught the look on my face, because he was slowly grinning. Orrrr maybe it was because I was still standing there without a top on and a gormless expression. I hastily span around, pulling the t-shirt over my head. "Before you head out, though," he said as I moved to grab a jacket. "I talked to Rose and Scorpius today, they're cool with us having our birthday party finally this weekend!"

"Still set on it being in their building, huh?" I asked.

"Naturally."

"And you're still not gonna tell me why?"

He just shrugged. "I'm surprised you haven't already guessed, to be honest."

Oh, I could hit him. Make me all intrigued when I had somewhere to be, the nerve of that boy! "Hey, quit with the bullfuckery, I told you that I haven't got the time right now!" I warned, shoving my feet back into my shoes.

"But you will later?" he grinned.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

I sighed. "No, I don't. I'll see ya later."

See, sometimes he makes it so easy! He's flirty and charming and makes you forget the fact that on the inside, he's probably screaming like he just got run-through with a lightsaber … or maybe that was me, HA. While my parents had owled recently hoping to see me, it was actually my baby sister who I was hoping to catch at home. I know, I know, one's 18-year-old sister didn't exactly sound like much help, but girl had heard the entire fucking story by this point. She knew shit. I hastily yelled out hi to Mum and Dad as I arrived in the fireplace, but I was quick to slam into the childhood bedroom that I had once been forced to share with my sister during the holidays back when I still lived at home.

"Good god, you look like shit," Katie laughed.

"Don't even start," I warned her. "I need your help – wait – is that a _laptop?_ "

"I got it today!" Katie grinned, scooping up the far too shiny Muggle device reverently, like it was a baby or something. "I've been savin' all year for this! If I'm gonna go to Muggle university, I figured I better prepare for it, so I've been teaching myself how to use it without accidentally making it malfunction. LOOK! You can play games!"

"I'm aware," I said, pushing the laptop out from under my nose. "You've seriously made up your mind, then? You're goin' to do teaching?"

"I think so, yeah," Katie said, happily. "Early childhood. If I get in, at least. I applied to lots of places, but there's still a couple in London I haven't heard back from. I was a bit late applying, after all."

"You'll get something, I swear, baby sis."

"Thanks, big sis," Katie yanked me down onto her tiny bed. Putting her laptop aside (and ignoring the weird whining sound it made when it was placed next to her wand on her bedside table) my sister gave me an odd look. "So why are you here, bein' all weird then, huh?"

"Why am I ever here?"

Katie grinned. "Another chapter in the Fred saga! I'll never tire of this."

"Never fall in love, Katie."

"Don't plan on it, not after listenin' to you," she snickered. "So go on, what's happened this time?"

Thank the lord I was close with my sister. Look, I love my mum and all, but we weren't like, _talk about stuff_ kind of close. Katie, however … Katie got me. There was a 9 year age gap between us, Katie had grown looking up to me, and I probably told her way too many things that I shouldn't, but I didn't want to ever let her down. I wanted her to hear the stupid things I did, because hell, you never know, just maybe she might learn something from them. She hadn't known the full story about Mark at the time, but I'd eventually told her because I didn't want my baby sister to ever find herself in a similar situation. I wanted her to be able to recognise emotional abuse when she saw it. I matched her position sitting cross-legged in front of me and attempted to explain how the hell I'd ended up here.

Katie's face, however, got more and more disbelieving as I went on. "Hang on," she eventually cut in, holding up a hand. "what exactly do you want me to say, here? 'cause like … Ems, sweetie…"

"Don't you _Ems, sweetie_ me," I grumbled.

"Well, who cares that you're freaking out?" she just shrugged. "So you live together now, haven't you guys been doin' that ever since you got together again? Hell, you've been through worse shit than this!"

"The issue to be addressed here, dear sister," I pointed out. "Is how to talk about something emotional with someone who goes into Panic Mode at the first sign of emotions."

"It's not like it has to be a long conversation," Katie said, exasperatedly.

"Well, all I can think of so far is killing him so that I don't have to do it, so you better have a better idea."

"I think society frowns upon murder, Emma."

"Gee," I muttered. "had no idea. Katie, I'm serious, you've got to help me out here–"

"Just catch him by surprise! Rip off the plaster," she cried. "Honestly, it can't be that hard."

Can't be that hard, she says! Does she not remember what happens whenever Fred and I actually explicitly talk about our feelings? IT TURNS INTO AN UNMITIGATED DISASTER, THAT'S WHAT. I grumbled under my breath until suddenly, Katie seemed to get an idea. She basically crawled over me to leap across her room and grab a pen and notepad from her desk, and I watched her in bewilderment until she was jumping down in front of me again. "I've got it!" she said, clicking the pen. "The first step here is telling your landlord that you're not renewing, right? So let's do that right now–"

"What? Katie, noooooo–" I whined.

"Hey," She booped me on the nose with her pen. "If I don't make ya do it, you'll end up paying rent on a flat that you don't live in for the rest of your given life. I'm helpin' ya out! C'mooooon."

I watched her in a huff for a moment. "It's just writing a letter, right?"

"Just a letter," Katie nodded, enthusiastically. "Don't think about the next step yet, Ems. You can do this, at least!"

My heart was hammering so hard it was almost painful, but I reluctantly took the notepad and pen from my sister. With her help, we slowly drafted a quick letter that if I didn't think too hard about, wasn't that difficult to do:

 _To Mr Harrison,_  
 _As per your request, this letter is to inform you that I do not wish to renew my tenancy for the upcoming year. As our lease officially ends on the 30th August 2031, I will ensure that I am completely moved out by then._  
 _(Thank you, Sam, for putting up with me for the last couple of years. Char and I will miss you!)_  
 _From Emma Terry, flat 16._

"So what's the next step?" I asked, reluctantly.

Katie grinned. "You send it."

"HAHAHA. Right, ok," I said.

"EMMA," Katie complained. But she jumped to her knees then, a rather evil look on her face. "Actually, ok. If you won't send it, then we skip to the next stage."

"Which is?"

"YOU TELL HIM."

"On second thoughts, I think I'll send the letter first," I said hastily, snatching said letter out of my sister's hands.

"Mmm, thought you might," Katie smirked. That was about when she tackled me in a hug, that made me yelp and sent us sprawling together across Katie's bed. "I love ya, sis."

"Yeah, you are fuckin' heavy," I said in reply.

Katie didn't seem to care. She refused to budge from where she was practically on top of me and I rolled my eyes a little before indulging her. She was an annoying ray of sunshine, my Katie. Eventually, she rolled off me so that we laid side by side, staring up at the cracked and dirty ceiling together. After a moment of comfortable silence, I teased,

"I'm surprised you're not heartbroken, Katie. Aren't you a little in love with Fred?"

"Maybe, but he totally couldn't handle me," she laughed. She paused then, however and in a slightly more serious voice, she added, "Ems … what's it like being in love?"

Hoo boy.

"Like you're consistently being hit in the stomach with a hammer, but you're happy about it?" I tried. "I dunno, Katie … it's probably different for everyone. It's terrifyin' but it also feels good, you know?"

"Are you glad you met him? Y'know, after everything."

"Yeah, I am," I admitted. "Really … I am."

* * *

If sending the letter was the first step, I didn't want to get to the next one!

I might have just spent the rest of the entire day sitting and staring at said letter if my sister hadn't practically frog-marched me out of her bedroom and forced me to send it. Our family owl thankfully wasn't completely barmy like Ravi, but that unfortunately meant I had a much higher success rate of the letter actually getting delivered safely.

"Any chance it might get lost in transit?" I'd asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

But shit mate, I did it! I watched that letter fly out the window and an entire weight simultaneously lifted off my shoulders and knocked me flat. It was gone, there was no going back now! No changing my mind, this was it, _I was moving out_. Look, I know that I could feasibly write on that tax form that this was my new address now and just literally never mention it to him. Like, it would honestly be so easy! Fred, the ridiculous bugger, would probably only finally catch on in something like ten years from now and by that time, it would have been so long that there was no point in getting worked up. See? These plans take time, but if you _commit_ –

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding.

I had to tell him. I owed him that much. The thought rang through my head the entire night, to the point where I honestly thought I might need to hit myself over the head with that aforementioned hammer just to get me to sleep! Eventually, somewhere around four in the morning, I gave up and lay curled on my side, watching the back of Fred's head as he remained blissfully in Unconscious Land. It was actually good to see him sleeping so deeply, now that I thought about it. He'd been having trouble since his dad died. Normally I was the one who accidentally woke him with kicks and elbows in faces, but there had been way too many times when I'd been woken in the middle of the night from his sudden jerking awake, gasping and sweating. But I realised that he was having more peaceful nights than restless ones these days. He was slowly getting somewhere.

I held my breath as he suddenly rolled over, my heart jacking up into my throat, but thank the maker, he was still asleep. Oh, shitballs, how was I ever going to say this? Maybe I could just cuddle him so I didn't have to look at him? HA. An Emma from many months ago might've disregarded that idea immediately ( _we all know how good at cuddling he is_ ) but we were both older and wiser now. I mean, fine, truth was that Fred Weasley would never exactly be a cuddler at heart. It didn't come naturally to him and that was ok, but that didn't mean he hated it either, right? It might've taken him weeks to get used to it, but he had ploughed through the uncomfortable mess it had turned him into solely because he knew I enjoyed it and if that didn't say something, I didn't know what did.

If he could go through all that, if he could let himself fall in love after all this time, then I could bloody well have a grown up conversation with him and tell him that I lived with him now.

Slowly, I moved over until my back was pressed against him. His breath was hot against my neck and I moved his arm over me until he was stirring and clenching it tighter himself. "Emma?" he murmured, blearily. "What time is it?"

"Early. Sorry, I couldn't sleep."

He sighed into my hair. "Why?"

All right, Emma Terry. Here is where you harden the fuck up and just DO IT!

He had to feel my heart racing in my chest, but thankfully didn't say anything. Before I could lose whatever nerve I had left, I choked out,

"My lease is up at my old flat."

For a long moment he didn't say anything, and I naturally died a thousand and one deaths in that time. Of course, all he ended up answering with was a sleepy,

"Oh?"

"Yeah …" Christ, Emma, you can do this. Thirty seconds of being a grown up! JUST TELL HIM! "So I figured I'd – I'd make this place my official address. If – if – … _shit_ , if that's ok …"

 _Lay me down to die_.

I'm tellin' ya, I was expecting literally anything in response. This is the guy who threw up after telling me he loved me, for crying out loud! I was imagining everything here, from crying, to hauling arse and fleeing for Scotland, but I am not fucking kidding ya when I say that what he actually did do was shrug a little and say,

"Yeah, of course."

 _Yeah, of course_.

OH MY GOD.

My heart might've still been going far too fast for what was considered normal (I maaay have to get Rose to actually check me out later) but incredibly, that was when I finally felt the tension of the last few days lift. It was almost like a physical change in which OH, look at that, I could breathe again! My breath came out in a long _whoosh_ and suddenly I could hear a frown in his voice as Fred asked,

"Wait. Is _that_ why you've been acting so bloody weird the last few days?"

"You noticed," I muttered, dryly.

"How could I not?" Fred's arm squeezed me a moment, before tugging at my hip. He rolled me over onto my back and the look on his face was the same one I got whenever I kissed him or did something stupid. It was the look that said _I'm in utter awe of you_. "Emma … fuck, I've had a lot on my mind, I didn't even think–"

"It's fine," I insisted. "Seriously! Now, if you don't mind, this had been a lot for my poor ol' heart to take, so if you don't want to send it further into shock, I'm just gonna turn back around and pretend to sleep until the alarm goes off. 'kay?"

I didn't give him the option. I just hastily turned back onto my side and tried to stop the tears of delayed relief from leaking out (blimey, I didn't need tears right now, ok?!).

Fred just laughed and wrapped his arm tighter around me.

"You're incredible," he murmured.

* * *

A/N: DID I SERIOUSLY JUST UPDATE LESS THAN 2 WEEKS AFTER THE LAST CHAPTER? O SHIT WHAT IS HAPPENING AHHDHDSHGS

Do yall remember when James first met Emma at the Cursebreaker gala? HAHA YEAH, if you'd told me that eventually, I'd be writing a fic chapter from HER FUCKING POV, I would have thought you were crazy. Emma Louise Terry wasn't supposed to be a main character at all, she was supposed to be a random work friend for one chapter but wHOOPS turns out I'm in love with her and now we're here folks, lol.

Anyway.

So our Emma isn't quite as Chill as she makes herself out to be and I spent most of my time writing this cackling to myself. I'm also glad that I got to share Emma's past history with Mark here. While it's in the past, it's still a significant part of what has shaped her as a person, and I think it's important to know to understand who she is. Note: not having suffered an emotionally abusive relationship myself, I did a lot of research. If anything mentioned doesn't sit right, please let me know. :)

Also, turns out that I couldn't do Emma justice in just one chapter, so BEHOLD, next chapter will be Emma's POV as well!

I HOPE YALL LIKED THIS, PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU LIKED IT!

I love yall!  
Moon xoxo


	37. That one time Emma climbed a building

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

 _Still Emma's POV, yo_

* * *

Chapter 37: That one time Emma climbed a building.

"Oh god, what about my bed? What am I supposed to do with this?" I yelled out from my bedroom.

Down the hallway, Libby called back, "Sell it? Pass it onto someone else?"

"You want it?" I joked.

"You've had sex with Fred in that bed, the hell do I want it!"

I just laughed, jumping and flopping down onto said bed. It wasn't that I was rather attached to this particular bed, but that it was becoming final now. Mine and Charmaine's furniture was slowly going, and my old bedroom that had been my safe haven the last nearly three years was barely recognisable. I let my arms and legs flop out like a starfish, listening to Libby back in the longue as she helped organise my shit (because let's face it, there's no way that I could do this by myself). Every now and then, she would say something to Clara who, last I'd seen her, had been happily playing in some of the empty boxes we'd brought in.

I was honestly going to miss this flat. This place had seen so much! Movie marathons and bad dates and that one time Fred told me he loved me …

Now there was something to remember.

Look, I'd been through a lot of heartbreak by that point. There was no way I was letting the tosser get to me! I was so sure that I was totally handling his bullshit in a mature and sensible fashion. So some guy had stopped talking to me for no fucking reason whatsoever – was I going to let myself get hung up over that? God, no. Nah, Fred could go fuck himself with whatever issues he had because I wasn't gonna get worked up.

NOPE. NO WAY.

I didn't care. I didn't need an explanation, and I _definitely_ didn't want to see his face ever again –

"I'm sick of it! What the fuck was that – what did I ever do?" I'd once sobbed in Libby's arms, sniffing pathetically every now and then.

"Oh, Emma," Libby had sighed, stroking my hair back. "He's a dickhead, but whatever he's got going on, it's not your fault, ok?"

Eventually, I'd gotten words out through my tears and ended up asking, "I just wish I knew what the hell went wrong …"

"I don't know, Emma," Libby had murmured. "Bastard isn't talking. I even threatened him with bodily harm, but …"

" _I hate him_ ," I'd cried.

"I know, girl. I know."

… ok, fine, so maybe I hadn't spent the ENTIRE time as stoic as a rock. Yes, maybe I'd been hurt. I hadn't had any idea what'd made him suddenly ignore me, and for most of that time I'd thought that I must have done something. But then he'd even more suddenly tried to talk to me again, and god, I wasn't having it! I was sick of playing his game, I was sick of being stuck in the middle as he tried to figure out whatever the hell was going on in that dumb as fuck brain of his. Thank god I'd had Charmaine to keep fending him off with a ten foot pole, but then eventually there had come the night when my anger at the entire situation had gotten the best of me.

 _Naturally_.

* * *

( _Five months ago_ )

"You know what?" I stormed up to the doorway, where Fred was apparently once again screaming for me. Somewhere, I was aware that I was entirely not dressed for this situation. I was in my designated Moping Outfit, which basically consisted of my Yoda onesie, but fuck it, Fred didn't deserve me looking hot anyway! I sent him the best glare I could muster as I stood in the doorframe and said,

"I was finally going to tell you to fuck off myself, but now I'm realising that actually, I'm curious! So by all means, come in!" Charmaine and I stepped aside. Fred sighed with relief and took one step, only for him to start tilting dramatically to one side. He came basically staggering in through the door and slammed into the hallway wall.

"Whoa …" I added in bewilderment. "are you _drunk_?"

Fred made some stupid comment in response as he vaguely tried to claw his way back upright and if anything, it made me madder. Charmaine caught my eye and mouthed, "GOOD FUCKING LUCK," as she literally turned tail and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Suddenly I was left alone with the man who had hurt me more than I wanted to admit. Not only that, but when he finally DOES turn up again, he turns up DRUNK? FRED, YOU DUMBARSE. I had literally rehearsed every single pissed off word of what I might say to him, but I'd been holding it in for weeks. I'd hoped that finally sometime I might get brave enough to actually confront him myself, but hadn't really thought I'd get to say any of it. But now, with him turning up at my door and unable to stand straight … now, it was all suddenly burning on the edge of my tongue.

And I found myself goddamn yelling.

"Oh, come on Fred!" I cried in outrage. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? You ignore me for WEEKS and suddenly, you think it's ok to start trying to talk to me again out of the blue?" I gave a disbelieving cry of laughter. "I'm sorry, mate, but that's not how this fucking works! FUCK YOU, Fred! Fuck you and all your shit because I'm not taking it anymore! You want to be my friend, be my friend, don't fucking DUMP ME for no reason and treat it like it's no big deal! Do you have ANY idea what I've been thinking the last month? I thought something was wrong! I thought I'd pissed you off, I thought I'd done something to you, I felt fucking terrible, Fred! But, what? You're just being a dickhead? I hate you! WELL?" I finally burst out, folding my arms defensively. "WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?"

I breathed hard for a moment. Like, holy shit, did I actually say all that? I think I did! Somewhere beyond all the red anger, I actually felt rather proud, because I don't think I've ever had the strength to say anything like that to someone before. I was always too-eager-to-please Emma. The Hufflepuff who cared too much. The girl who could tease and make fun of others but could never actually stand up for herself.

But look at me now _._

Fred, the fucker, unfortunately wasn't helping himself out much. He blinked a little at my tirade, before asking, "How did I get here?"

"What?"

"No, seriously, I don't remember coming here – I just remember drinkin' and – there was a lot of drinkin' – WAIT –"

I practically seethed. "THIS ISN'T HELPING!"

"Why are you yelling at me?"

" _YOU HAVE COMPLETELY IGNORED ME FOR A MONTH!_ "

Surely it had to have sunk into his head by this point. He certainly looked sorry and I let him stew in it gleefully as he even attempted to stand upright, only keeping one hand against the hallway wall now. "I'm sorry!" he cried. "I'm sorry, Emma, I'm so fucking sorry that I don't even know what to say! I was so fine before I met you, but now – oh, look, I'm falling down again –"

He'd forgotten to lean the right way. I sure as fuck wasn't catching him (he could land on his face for all I cared) so I hastily ducked out of the way as he nearly keeled over. He yelped a little, struggling back upright and I growled out, "Don't kill yourself, please."

"I mean it!" he just carried on babbling, even as he smacked back into the wall once more, leaning heavily. "My life was great before you! It was fun and easy but then I had to go and meet you! You were supposed to be just another girl that I didn't care about, but I did, Jesus fuck, I did and DAMN IT, WHY?"

God, I could hit him. Naturally this still had to be all about him. Trust me, I'm normally the first to blame myself in these situations, but we weren't standing here yelling at each other because of what I'd done! "Right," I scoffed. "You just can't get over the fact that you are a dick at the end of the day and probably always will be. I get it. Get out of my flat before I get even more mad and hex you, Bonehead."

"No, wait, that came out wrong," Fred pleaded. "Shut up a sec!"

"I won't!" I spat out. "Fred, you're supposed to be my FRIEND! If you couldn't get over the fact that we used to sleep together, then you should have bloody SAID, rather than just ignored me and my owls to the point where I thought I'd hurt you somehow! What the hell? Who fucking DOES THAT?"

"Emma, you seriously didn't do anything wrong!"

Oh, fuck him. "Right! So you're legit going with 'it's not you, it's me'?"

"Stop it!" He looked agitated, rubbing his face frantically. "Just STOP IT, I CAN'T THINK–"

" _Why did you come here, Fred?_ " What the hell did you think this was going to do, huh?

Suddenly, Fred looked straight up and into my eyes.

"I love you!"

Aaaaaaand I think my heart just stopped.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit, shit, _shit_.

SHIT.

There's no way he just said that, right? For a moment, I just stood there, certain I must have misheard despite the fact that he'd been pretty fuckin' clear. He looked like he was going to throw up, but also somewhat pleased, like he'd finally managed to tick something off his to-do list. I covered my mouth with a hand, trying to hold it in. How the hell dare he? I didn't need a man to say those words to me. Not anymore. Once upon a time, there might've been an Emma who did, but she had grown up and now, she had learned not to depend on hearing it. My existence wasn't dependent on someone else's capability to love me.

But Christ, hearing those words coming from Fred's mouth … I could have punched him. It was all I wanted to hear, and also the worst thing I could have heard at the exact same time.

"God, Fred–"

Unfortunately, he wasn't done.

"That's right!" he burst out. "Turns out that I'm in love with you! I don't know how I know it, I just do! I love you so fucking much that that I wanna gouge my own eyes out and drink only tea again for the rest of my life! You are literally the only person who has ever made me this messed up," He rubbed his eyes warily, sighing. "God, Emma, you are the first person I wanna tell when I get good news, and every time I fuck up, you're there to tell me what an idiot I'm being. You laugh at my jokes, even when I'm not funny, and every night when I go to sleep I wish that you were there next to me. I love you, I love your sense of humour, your passion, the way you kiss me and your hair – we're – we're – Han and Leia! I don't fucking know," He threw up his hands desperately. "I don't know how to say any of this, I have no idea what I'm saying, but I hope you know that I'm trying – I am trying SO HARD – because I never ever wanted to hurt you and I'm so sorry for that, I really am! I love you, Emma Terry, so CONGRATULATIONS! You are the first and only person who has managed to make me fall in love with them! So thank you, Emma! THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT!"

Any second now, I'm gonna cry … ANY SECOND …

He stood there, looking flushed and breathing heavily, like he'd just run a hundred miles. When he'd said it once was bad enough! What the bloody hell am I supposed to do? Half of me was screaming, the other half cheering, and maybe a tiny, _tiny_ part of me wanted to say it back, but oh god. I stomped that down hard. Before I couldn't even attempt at making a decision to do something, Fred opened his mouth as if to say something else. I almost yelled out literally anything to make him shut up. Lord help me, I would not be able to take much more! However, that was when he suddenly turned and bolted for the kitchen.

By the time I caught up to him, the poor bastard was throwing up in the sink.

I sighed. I honestly hesitated approaching. But like … we were supposed to be mates, right? At the end of the day, no matter what had been said, I cared, and I made the snap decision to step forward and rub his back, letting him get it all out. I had no idea what he'd drunk, but clearly the nerves of the last ten minutes had finally gotten to him. He was gonna feel like shit in the morning. He was almost already passed out by the time I was shoving a damp cloth into his hands and pushing him down onto my sofa, Fred curling up pathetically as I hit the lights.

"You're welcome," I muttered. "Goodnight, Fred."

I had to get out of here.

* * *

"OH, FUCK," I yelled out. "HELP! MAYDAY! IT'S A DISASTER, HEEEEEEELLLP!"

A slam. Someone muttered, " _Ouch_ ," before footsteps suddenly thundered down the hallway.

My mother came careening around the corner, barrelling into the lounge in a matching set of kitty pyjamas and her wild hair disarray. She pulled some kind of ridiculous battle pose with her wand as she cried,

"AM I UNDER ATTACK?!"

"Mum!" I yelled. "No, no, you're not under attack, but I need help!"

"Emma?" Rebecca Terry flicked her wand and the lights flared. Look, it was late in the evening, I was still wearing my goddamn Yoda onesie and probably looked like the world was ending, it was no wonder she looked shocked at my sudden appearance at home! I know I don't normally talk to my mum, but it was far too late to be disturbing Libby, Katie was all the way at Hogwarts and there was no bloody way Charmaine was gonna wanna touch this situation, so Mum it was. "What on earth?" she asked, clutching at her chest as she relaxed slightly. "Bloody hell, Emma Terry! You scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry," I pleaded. "but Mum, I'm having a crisis! Fred said he loves me, HE FUCKING LOVES ME, MUM!"

SERIOUSLY, THAT JUST HAPPENED.

Mum blinked a few times, before blindly sitting down on the sofa. She watched me for a moment, before taking a hair tie from her wrist and throwing her curls up into a bun away from her face. Oh boy, apparently this meant Serious Business. Mum naturally didn't know a lot about the crazy Fred Drama, but Katie had to have told her things and when her kids got fucked over, one could always count on my Mama Terry. I just looked at her in a panic. Mum, now's about the time you say something useful, goddamn it!

"You mean your friend, Fred?" she apparently decided was the most important thing to clarify.

"YES, THAT FRIEND, FRED!"

"Honey, keep it down, the neighbours will complain," Mum glanced over her shoulder and added, "Who knows how your dad's sleeping through this …"

"MUUUUM!"

"Yes, yes, I'm listening!" she sighed. "Would you please sit down and start breathing normally?"

"HOW CAN I SIT DOWN? FRED'S IN LOVE WITH ME!"

"You mentioned. Aren't you guys fighting?"

"I thought we were!" My legs were restless. I honestly thought my heart might slam right out of my chest as I paced back and forth, frantically. "He's been a bloody DOUCHEBAG, who the fuck is he to ignore me for so long, then just say that out of the blue?! He turns up on my doorstep blind drunk right, and goes into this goddamn rant about how he's sorry, how he loves me so much, AND HOW DARE HE? I don't care how much he says it, he hurt me, Mum! I thought I'd done something to make him ignore me but NOPE, turns out he was just too much of a fucking coward to say what he really felt and I don't care that it's what I've wanted to hear basically since we met, I don't care, I DON'T CARE! I HATE HIM!"

"Do you hate him?" Mum said, dryly.

"MUM!"

She shook her head, chuckling a little. "Oh, Ems. Where is he now?"

"Passed out on my sofa."

She laughed. "Oh my god."

"YOU'RE SAYING OH MY GOD?" I cried. "MUM, ONLY I GET TO SAY OH MY GOD! … OH MY GOD!"

"Ok, Ems," Mum held up a hand. "You've yelled, now you really need to just back up a bit and explain. You barely tell me anything about this lad, is this the one who has a baby?"

"CHRIST, no, that's James," I cringed at once. "No, Fred's the bloke I used to – to go out with," I stumbled slightly over the words there. Look, I know that this is Mum and Mum's know things, but I wasn't about to spell it out for her. There's just some things you don't want your parents hearing, right? "But I told him I liked him and he dumped me, and we didn't talk for ages. Then we became friends, only about a month ago he just randomly stopped talking to me out of the blue and I didn't know what I did but apparently he loves me?! WHO THE FUCK JUST SAYS THAT?!"

"Wait, this boy dumped you?" Mum leapt to her feet.

"That is like, the least important part of this story."

"I'll give 'im a piece of my mind!"

"Blimey, Mum," I rolled my eyes. "Fuckin' chill, please, we got past that part. Mostly. Well, I don't know, I at least thought we had," I moved forward and shoved on her shoulders, pushing her back down onto the sofa. I made to join her, but found that I still couldn't quite bend my knees. I realised that my hands were shaking along with my pounding heart. "Oh Christ, I just don't know what do to, Mum! I thought I could move on from him, I thought I wouldn't let a man hurt me ever again, but look at me, I'm standing here in a panic because this idiot came along and made me fall in love with him. When he said all those things, it was literally everything I wanted to hear, but he was emotional and drunk as hell, he probably won't even remember saying it tomorrow! How do I even know he meant it, how can I forgive him, _how_ –?"

I cut myself off, my face crumpling. Let's face it, I'm a bloody crybaby and everything just crashed on top of each other until I was suddenly sniffing and covering my face. "Oh, sweetie …" Mum sighed, reaching up and tugging on my wrist. I let her pull me into her lap, and I wrapped my arms around her, letting the tears spill over like a little kid again.

"I'm a mess," I sobbed.

"Emma Louise Terry," Mum said, fiercely. "you are a strong, beautiful, _amazing_ woman. It's ok that you love him. It proves that I raised a daughter who cares despite everything. _It's ok_ that a part of you liked hearing him say it."

"Why can't I just get over him?"

Mum held me tight. "This doesn't mean you have to forgive him, Emma. Sometimes the people you love fuck up. It happens. You're allowed to be mad and disappointed that this hasn't worked out the way you wanted, and you're allowed to be pissed off about the way he's treated you."

A part of me wanted to argue _I know that, Mum_. But the fact that she had to actually tell me out loud probably said that I hadn't known. I stayed quiet, thinking as I rested my head on Mum's shoulder and wiped at my face with a hand. Merlin forbid the day I had made the decision to sleep with Fred Weasley, but there was no going back now! We were here, and the boy was clearly dealing with the fact that he had caught Feelings and didn't know what to do with them. He was going to be hungover as hell tomorrow, which was at least a small consolation for how he'd acted the past month.

I wasn't letting him off. I wasn't taking pity, I wasn't going to let things just snap back to normal because he doesn't get to do this to me. I don't care WHAT he was dealing with, he treats me like shit and I will make him regret it. A part of me ached a little – _he loves me, Fred is in fucking love with me_ – but I gathered all my resolve. I loved the stupid man, but I told myself that he would have to do a lot of apologising and changing to fix this mess.

Maybe, just maybe, I'd eventually forgive him if he tried.

"Sorry for crying on ya, Mum."

She just snorted softly. "That's what I'm here for."

* * *

( _Present day_ )

"CLARA, NO!"

I jerked suddenly out of the random memory as Libby's voice crashed back across my consciousness. I heard a loud shriek/giggle and Libby cursing as I remembered that oh right, I was supposed to be organising and packing stuff! How we'd gone from disastrous love confessions to this, I hadn't a bloody clue. Before I could hastily roll back off my bed, Libby came storming in, her tiny daughter babbling away in her arms.

"Here!" she said, dumping the baby on top of me. "Please, for the love of god, watch this child so I can please pee in peace?"

"Aw," I sniggered, 10-month-old Clara wobbling as she perched on her hands and knees on my chest. "Clara, are you not letting Mummy get even a moment to pee?"

"She follows me everywhere!" Libby's voice was already halfway down the hallway to the bathroom.

Luckily, Clara didn't seem to mind so much that Mum had just abandoned her. She tried to crawl off me and onto my bed, only she lost her balance and ended up comically plopping off my chest and landing on her back like an upside down turtle. I sat up and glanced down at her, but thankfully she seemed to think it was funny that she'd fallen. She giggled on her back, chewing on her fingers and I tickled her tummy.

"You're gettin' big, my girl!" I told her. "Look atcha, crawling everywhere and stuff! Soon you'll be walking and talking, blimey. I still remember the first time I ever met ya!"

She'd been so tiny then. Tiny Human, that's what Fred calls her. I'd first held her in the hospital and nearly cried, she was so perfect, and I wasn't even a real auntie! She had grown from a new-born to the almost toddler she was now, all rolley baby limbs and wide smiles and soft dark hair like her parents. She rolled over then and climbed up onto her hands and knees, keen to explore this new bed environment. I watched her until naturally, she went for the box of tissues on the nightstand and started ripping them out.

"Oi!" I rolled over and scooped her up and away from the box. A tissue came with us, which she tried to eat until I managed to get it off her. "No, no, those are probably not very good to eat, Clara. Probably. I mean, I dunno, I've never eaten a tissue before, but sorry, I'm not lettin' ya experiment. Maybe Fred would, but not this auntie!" I plonked Clara down in my lap and thankfully, she didn't squirm and try to escape. Libby came back a couple minutes later and Clara squealed at the sight of her.

"Ohhhh, you see Mummy!" I said as Libby grinned, jumping onto the bed with us. "Hey, Clara, do you see Mummy?"

I lifted her up onto her feet and Libby held out her arms for her. The girl stood there in concentration for about ten seconds, wobbling on unsteady feet. Then, she promptly sat back down and crawled over to Libby instead. "Ah, well," my friend sighed, sweeping Clara up and kissing her cheek. "She'll get it someday."

"Hey, sometimes I forget that she can even crawl, let alone stand with assistance for ten seconds," I laughed.

"She certainly is a wonder," Libby mentioned lightly. "Eh?" she added to her daughter.

Clara patted Libby's cheeks happily.

"Can't believe she's a few months from turning one," I mentioned and Libby overdramatically held up a hand.

"Please," she begged. "I start sobbing uncontrollably every time I remember!"

"Honestly, though. Thank you for still managing to be my best friend despite the little one driving ya crazy the past year," I said. "God knows it's been a lot of drama."

"We should be used to drama by now," Libby snorted softly, Clara wiggling in her arms. "How does it feel to be moving out?"

I just took a deep breath, releasing it with a huff.

"That bad, huh?"

"It's not bad, just _weird_ ," I complained. "I've been basically moved out for months already, but now it feels real. I dunno, Lib. How did you feel?"

"Well I didn't really move out, it was more James who moved in," Libby reminded me. "I admittedly freaked a little. YES, ok fine!" she added, letting Clara crawl out of her arms once more, as the girl was clearly now bored with being held. "Ok, so maybe I freaked a lot. I got super drunk on a night out in town and totally disappeared on him, ended up crying at my brother's place. Actually, James probably still hasn't forgiven me for it," she added.

"Oh, dear," I mentioned.

" _Emma_. I just mean it's ok to be scared," Libby pointed out. "You know that, right?"

"I know. I guess … it's hard not to panic when so far, this entire relationship has been built upon our kind of spectacular ability to panic."

"True, you guys _are_ pros."

Clara tugged at my jeans then, as if to add, _'Ya, Auntie Emma, you're insane.'_

I just smiled down at my fave lil human, letting her clamber over my legs. "You and James are both able to come to our birthday party this weekend, right?" I asked. "Like, no pressure if one of you has to stay with Clara, but–"

"ARE YOU KIDDING?" Libby said. "I am literally counting down the days until we get to drop her off with Harry and Ginny! Sorry, babe," she added at her daughter, who appeared none the wiser.

"I think she's ok with it."

"Good," Libby sighed then, before pressing her hands onto my bed and pushing herself up back to her feet. "Well, c'mon. If we stop now, then we'll never get all this shit sorted."

"Libbyyyy, I just want a break!"

"You've been on break for the last half hour!" Libby yanked at my arm, hauling me upright next to her. "This is YOUR flat, and you are moving yourself out of it."

"Fine," I grumbled. "C'mon, Clara." I scooped up the baby before reluctantly following Libby back to the Lounge of Boxes.

"Aaahhhhhhh," Clara smacked my nose.

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly."

* * *

When lunch hour started a few days later, I was quick to run out of the Cursebreaker building and out into Diagon Alley. Sure enough, my girl was there outside the bank in her designated spot, waiting for me.

"EMMAAAAA!" Lily Potter practically screeched.

I laughed and moved to hug her enthusiastically.

Look, there's something about shared trauma that just bonds people. Within an hour of first meeting Lily, we had found ourselves both facing off against the ex that had caused us the most amount of grief in our lives, and let me tell ya, that shit changes your view on a person! Lily wasn't just James' little sister, she was a fellow comrade, someone who knew and understood what I'd been through because she'd been through the same. It was honestly uncanny to realise that we had both gone out and subsequently been screwed over by the same person, and ever since the incident, Lily and I had taken it upon ourselves to become official guardians of each other! I mean, basically we just met up every now and then when our schedules permitted to get caught up on the goss, but we were always thinking of each other when doing it.

We honestly didn't really talk about our shared past much. We'd gotten that all out of the way the first time we'd agreed to meet up after the Incident. I'd only owled her with the suggestion that she come round for tea, but it had ended with us six hours later completely piss drunk off wine, sitting on the kitchen floor and complaining/crying over our mutual hatred for the man.

"Did'e ever – like, he'd pour out all 'is own issues, righ'?" I'd leaned back heavily against the kitchen cupboards, passing Lily the wine. "But whenever I'd fuckin' wanna talk about sumthin' – I dunno, the fucker would somehow make you feel bad for ever mentionin' it?"

"OMG," Lily had punched me. "like he'd expect ya to deal with all of his shit, but never help ya deal with your own?!"

"YOU HAD THAT TOO?"

"He did it all the bloody time!" Lily had thrown the wine into the air. "FUCK MARK."

"FUCK MARK!"

 _Anyway_. We had thankfully gotten all our 'fuck Mark's out of the way and eventually, we been able to actually talk more about other things. Hell, this woman was four years younger than me and had probably done more than my entire lifetime so far! She was the kind of confident that I only ever wished I could be, and I loved the girl dearly. Lily squeezed me tightly before pulling back, her long red hair blowing gently in the summer breeze.

"Good to see you!" she said. "Merlin, it's been ages since we last caught up."

"I know! I'm sorry, I've been super busy with work lately," I admitted.

"I figured, since you're here on a goddamn Saturday," Lily joked. "What, a tomb blow up or something?"

"It's a long story," I sighed. "Incompetent team members, angry boss, so there's all that in between keepin' Fred together and shit …" I trailed off a little awkwardly as Lily and I set off down Diagon Alley in search of our usual lunch café. "Wait, I'm sorry, Lily. I didn't mean to bring that up."

"Hey, nah, it's ok," Lily was a bit more subdued at the vague reference to her uncle. "It's still a little hard to believe. Is Fred doing ok?"

I thought for a moment before nodding. "He's … yeah, he's doing ok. It's up and down. Sometimes he's perfectly fine and then other times it just smacks him round the face, but he's getting help and he's getting somewhere."

"God, I can't imagine …" Lily linked her elbow through mine. "You're tough as shit, Emma."

"I don't think so," I scoffed.

"You kidding?" Lily said. "You manage to handle Fred not only when he's being regular douchebag Fred, but also when he's rightfully grief-stricken Fred. Dave had to watch me lose an uncle, but you had to watch Fred lose his dad. You've got my mad respect."

I guess I hadn't thought much about how it had affected me. I had met George Weasley briefly, but hadn't really known him at all. I wish I had. From everything I'd heard and from my own brief encounters, it seemed that he had been a riot; funny and resilient and an incredible person to know. But even if I hadn't known George, I knew his son far too well, and it hurt through him. I hated the nights when he couldn't sleep and I hated when the grief would suddenly hit him with no warning. I hated when I'd had to watch him self-destruct and now how moody he got on therapy days. I hated how much of a battle it clearly was for him and how it seemed like half the time I was being more of a hindrance than a help. I mean, god, I wasn't going to forget the hysteria of the night I'd had to beg Scorpius to talk to him any time soon.

I was terrified. _So, so terrified_ , to the point where Rose hadn't even known what I was trying to say at first through the panicked crying. It wasn't until I'd practically screamed Scorpius' name when it had finally gotten through. I certainly owed Rose one for calming me down.

"I guess I like Fred enough that I don't mind sticking around for the shitty parts," I ended up saying casually.

Lily thankfully laughed. "Oh, how times change! When we first met, you guys were still barely knew each other, right?"

"I've started gettin' nostalgic about it, please don't let me ramble at ya," I insisted.

"But I love the Fred dramas!"

"Yeah, yeah, let's get tea before anything else dramatic happens," I rolled my eyes, shoving her forward.

We had a café that we both liked down Diagon Alley, and more often than not ended up there for the amazing tea. Maybe that was another reason I liked Lily so much, I could always appreciate a fellow tea-drinker! I waited until we had sat down and had cups in our hands before finally telling her, "We, um, live together now, by the way."

Lily hastily held out a hand as if to stop me. "HOLD UP," she said. "you serious?"

"Very."

"That boy let you move in?" she said in amazement.

"He didn't so much 'let me' as I just slowly kept moving all of my stuff until eventually, he had to," I laughed, but Lily still cheered and practically leapt the table to hug me. "It wasn't a conscious decision, though, I swear!"

"Nah, 'course not," Lily snorted.

"No, really! It was literally the furthest thing from my mind, I haven't lived with a man since Mark," I admitted.

"Shiiiiit," Lily let out a breath as she flopped back into her chair. "How you dealing, then?"

"Better than I thought I would!" I said. "I've had the natural meltdown, but eventually I figured that it couldn't be much harder than what we'd already been through, so."

"Damn, girl," Lily laughed. "I literally never thought Fred would get to this point."

"I might've thought the same a few months ago."

"Oh, bless him," she smiled. "He's so lucky to have you, Emma."

"Thanks. Love ya, bitch."

"Love you too, bitch," Lily took a gulp of tea before we started talking about other things. Mine and Fred's birthday party, which was FINALLY tonight, I ensured that she was coming to, and Lily asked me all about work. We chatted more and more as lunch hour went by, me going on about the botched up Gibraltar Project and her complaining of what was her 'mundane life' until eventually, I had five minutes to get back to work and we were still busy hastily bitching about Lily's current boss.

"Apparently Bea had to deal with her at one point, and turns out she wasn't exaggerating! Last time I EVER freelance for the _Witch Weekly_ ," Lily shuddered as we practically ran, the bank finally coming into view. "God, I can't wait to get out of here!"

"You have much work coming up?" I asked.

But Lily suddenly hesitated.

Despite that I might be late, I paused. Lily Potter wasn't exactly a girl who hesitated. But my question had made her quiet, made her glance away and I daresay made her look slightly … _guilty?_ I wasn't sure if I was imagining things, but apparently there had been something stewing underneath the surface of this entire catch up. Something she'd been meaning to say, but hadn't. I only had to ask, "What?"

And she cracked.

"Ok, I have to tell someone!" she leapt forward, grabbing my hand. "I didn't know whether to say anything because it's not really _official_ official yet, but I just found out and–" I watched in bemusement as she gave a muffled excited squeak. "Emma, I'm moving to New Zealand!"

"Oh my god," I said. "LILY."

"I know!"

"You've been thinkin' of doing it for ages! Did the right time finally come?" I asked.

"Basically. I never wanted to stay here permanently," Lily said. "I've been thinking about it since before Clara was born, and I finally got tired of just thinking, I guess. I've been casually applying for jobs, but I suddenly got offered one with a wizarding media company in Auckland so I applied for a working holiday visa. It only lasts two years … but after that time, you can apply for permanent residency," Lily practically beamed at me. "Emma, I'm so excited."

"You should be! Holy shit, I am so late for work, but I don't care!" I cried. "God, is Dave happy as well?"

"He can't wait to get the fuck outta here, he hates London," Lily laughed.

"Fair enough, the traffic is terrible," I said. "When are you going?"

"It's kinda still up in the air since the job offer is pending until my visa gets accepted, but if everything works out … I could be there before the end of the year."

"Oh, damn, I'm gonna miss ya!" I moved forward and hugged her fiercely. Lily laughed and wound her arms tight around me.

"Emma, I'll miss you too."

* * *

Of course Lily, THE BITCH, asked me not to actually tell anyone about her decision to move halfway across the world yet.

("I wasn't even gonna tell you! PLEASE?"

"FINE, will you let go of me so I can go and not get fired from work now?")

Therefore, I resigned myself to actually having to concentrate on my job and try and forget about it for now. Work was admittedly crazy, so it was probably good to have my undivided attention anyway. It was somewhere around mid-afternoon when I was just imagining getting out of here in a few hours, when I kind of accidentally made a break through.

"ALEXIIIIIISSSSSS!" I yelled, running down the main work corridor.

My co-worker turned in confusion as I shouted. Alexis and I worked on the same project team, and I held up my clipboard reverently when I finally skidded to her side. I panted a little ridiculously until eventually, she said,

"Uhhhh … Emma, you alright?"

"I think I've figured it out!" I cried. "At least, maybe – I think I know how the shipment disappeared!"

"No way!" Alexis was immediately on board. She grabbed the clipboard, flicking through the pages. "How'd you do it, what happened?"

"I was looking through the shipment manifesto again for like the tenth time, because I figured we _had_ to have missed something," I began. "and yeah, yeah, I know it's basically all just rocks and whatever, but one of the items was ' _miscellaneous wooden tools'._ Like, what the fuck does THAT mean?"

"C'mon," Alexis rolled her eyes. "It means the guys onsite couldn't be arsed figuring it out, so just shoved it in the shipment for us to do in the labs instead."

"Ok, yeah, but I started thinking about it and it's just a theory, but _what if_ the miscellaneous wooden tools … were actually the remains of early wands?" I said.

"Interesting. Continue," Alexis grinned.

Thank god, she was humouring me. "Look, we know that wands are generally buried or burned with their owners so what if when these wands were dug up, they didn't want to leave their owners? We know wands are kind of sentient, and it would explain how an entire shipment disappears out of nowhere and can't be traced."

"We are admittedly talking broken, hundreds of year's old wands here, Emma," Alexis pointed out. "Besides, the guys working onsite would have surely found bodies at the same time if they really were wands?"

"C'mon, Lex, you and I both know there's a million ways that a body could move or disappear entirely," I scoffed. "It could've been magic of some kind, not to mention that we've already established the onsite team is lazy as fuck. Try harder to stump my theory!"

Alexis just laughed, though. "We gotta get on this shit, see if it pans out. If your theory's right, then the shipment might be back where it originally came from! Hope you didn't have plans tonight," she joked.

"Nah, I – OH, shit," I suddenly swore. "actually, I've got a party tonight."

"With all of this going on?"

"IT'S SATURDAY!" I cried, throwing my hands up. "And it's kinda my own party, so I can't exactly not turn up – hold on, I gotta send some messages –"

I ended up having to hastily scribble out a note to Fred, lest he wonder what the fuck had happened to me. Written on the back of an old, scribbled out autopsy report, I sent it on its way with a work owl that had the same dozy-eyed look that kind of reminded me of Ravi:

 _Yo Fred,  
Still at work, BUUUUUT we hit a breakthrough! Unfortunately, I'm seriously not getting out of here any time soon, so don't wait around. Eat without me, and I'll meet you straight at the party whenever I finally finish here, ok?  
xxx  
Princess_

"Right," I said determinedly, looking up at Alexis once more. "LET'S DO THIS SHIT!"

Though quite honestly, the next several hours were spent in utter chaos. We got somewhere, but it was only after multiple angry Floo calls, several written reports that promptly had to be changed at least three times, and a lot of tears. By the time I was allowed to actually leave the bank, it was way past ten in the evening and all I wanted was a shower and a change of clothes. However, the adrenaline of the afternoon was still kicking and I just needed someone to scream at, ok?

"FRED, WE DID IT!" I yelled.

The party was in full swing by the time I went crashing onto the balcony of Rose's building. A large banner was strung up along the rails that read 'Happy (late) birthday, Fred & Emma!' and it appeared that Rose had even taken to decorating the place, lanterns illuminating the balcony as cheerful conversation spread amongst the crowd. Fred turned in confusion from where I'd spotted him talking to Scorpius, and I barely gave him seconds to react before I was throwing myself at him.

"HOLY TITS, WE FOUND THE SHIPMENT!" I cried.

"Wait – what?" Fred said, arms wrapping around me in bemusement. "I got your owl – I was literally about to go make sure you weren't dead somewhere, did you really only just leave the bank?"

"I'm so sorry, I've been there all damn day, but that breakthrough I mentioned, my theory was right! BE MORE EXCITED, GODDAMN IT!"

"I WOULD IF I KNEW WHAT WAS GOING ON!"

"Mate, just spin her around like she clearly wants," Scorpius snorted then.

Fred hugged me off my feet and I laughed with glee. "Ok, ok!" I said once he'd put me back down. "I had this theory right, that the missing shipment contained early wand remains that were still sentient and had messed up the delivery and after a LOT of Floo calls, we found the bloody shipment back at the dig site!"

"Oh my god, you guys finally found it?" Fred thankfully got why this was so important to me.

"Hell of a theory, Emma," Scorpius nodded, impressed.

"I KNOW," I practically yelled. "Hell, even Director Gale said I'd done a good job! DIRECTOR GALE!"

"That's amazing!" Fred said, as even Scorpius congratulated me. I suppose that if anything good had come out of that night I begged Scorpius to talk to Fred, it was finally getting to know said bloke. I knew of him sure, I spoke to him if we ever crossed paths, but Scorpius and I weren't exactly _close_. However, we'd gotten to know each other a lot better since Fred had taken it upon himself to mutually fall in love with the guy. I always watched in bemusement as they'd chat enthusiastically and greet each other with hugs. And not a ridiculous hand-clasp-back-slap kind of thing either, I'm talking a full-on, arms around each other kind of hug that Fred clearly appreciated. I mean, we've already established that shared loss bonded people. "We may have to send them on a date sometime," Rose had mentioned at the first witnessing of the phenomenon which quite honestly, I thought Fred would totally go for.

While being in Fred's arms was always a good place to be, I eventually had to leave the boys so that I could actually say hi to other people and get them to also scream about work with me. I caught Lily's eye with a bottle of tequila over by the music, several of Fred's mates from the Auror Office and even a few Cheetahs players that James had clearly invited (sadly, no Sebastian … I may one day get over the Love of My Life, but today is not that day!). I practically screeched to Libby and Sarah, the two naturally getting the enormity of the situation within seconds.

"I still can't believe you went to work on a Saturday," Sarah snorted.

"I CAN!" Libby had hugged me around the middle and refused to let go. Now, she just clung on like a growth on my side, but she was a rather loveable growth, so I was tolerating it. "Emma, I'm so proud of you!"

"I mean, I didn't do much," I added, hastily.

"Bitch, the entire thing was a PR disaster, and you just single-handedly solved it," Libby grinned. "You're gonna get promoted, I swear to god!"

"Lord, I dunno if I even wanna get promoted," I said. "That means leadin' entire projects, travelling overseas, being responsible for other people …"

"Hey," Libby let go so that she could straighten and look me in the eye. "Emma. You could do it, if you wanted, seriously."

I smiled half-heartedly.

"Thanks, Lib."

"EMMA!" I barely had any time to get used to standing without someone clinging to me, as seconds later, James was apparently bowling into me. "I hear congrats are in order! Oh, and happy late birthday!"

"Jesus, James," I huffed under his weight.

He squeezed me tight before stepping back. As Libby and Sarah carried on their conversation, I got a good look at James. He certainly seemed like someone who's baby daughter was driving him nutty, but the punch-drunk grin also told me that he was just very glad to be at a party right now. "You and Libby down a few before gettin' here or something?" I asked in amusement.

"What? _Nooooo_ ," he waved a hand until he caught my disbelieving look. "…ok, fine, but I promise that Clara was already with Mum, we're not THAT irresponsible."

"Sure, sure," I snorted.

"True! Mind you, I think it was only two or something in the afternoon when we dropped her off," James rubbed his forehead a little, before taking another drink from the bottle in his hands. "I mean, I love the hell out of my daughter, but god we needed a break. We literally napped for four hours, and then had some frankly amazing sex."

"That make ya feel any better?"

"A lot!" James grinned. "But anyway, I shouldn't be complaining about being a parent, this party is supposed to be all about you! I was gonna congratulate you anyway because I heard from a certain someone – not naming names – that there's apparently some cohabitating happening now, huh?"

"LIBBY, that bitch."

"Hey, I didn't name names."

I just grinned. "Yeah, we live together."

THAT'S RIGHT. I DID THAT!

"Noooo, really?" James mocked.

I smacked him on the chest. "Shut up, it's a big deal for us! That kind of thing is easy for you, you and Libby actually talk about that kind of thing, whereas we usually just–"

"Sit on things and stay silent until eventually, it all explodes into a Feelings Avalanche?"

"… I feel called out."

James just snorted, but still slung his arm around my shoulders then as we watched the party go by around us. "Nah, honestly, I'm so proud of ya," he said. "Who would've thought though, huh? Fred and Emma got to this point! I probably owe someone money now, actually."

"Please," I almost laughed. "You're gonna make me cry!"

"Baby."

"Thanks, James," I rolled my eyes.

"Hey," he said. "Seriously! I got your back, Emma. He ever do anything you just let me know. You're my homegirl, remember?"

"I'm so glad I met ya," I grinned.

James hauled me in closer. "Well, I guess ONE good thing managed to happen at those godforsaken Cursebreaker galas."

"I'm touched!" I said.

And no really, I was. My life had gotten 1000% more interesting the moment James Potter had stepped into it, although maybe that was because his best friend also hadn't been far behind. Speaking of which … James and I turned in confusion as suddenly, the music was turned down and someone was calling out from halfway across the balcony. I smacked my forehead when I realised that Fred was now attempting to climb on top of a table.

"Oh, no," I muttered.

"IF I COULD HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE," he was yelling.

"What's he doing now?" James asked in amusement.

"You think I know?" I said, before hastily pulling away and darting through the crowd. Everyone was turning curiously, gathering around the rather shoddy plastic table but I hissed, "Fred!" before hurtling right up to it. I might've also smacked a hand down if I weren't afraid of the entire thing splitting in two (though it'd serve him right). "Get your arse down from there before you crack your head open!"

Literally, his only reaction to noticing me was pointing at me and calling out, "EEEYYY!" I mean, _honestly_. Sometimes having a conversation with this man was like talking to a drunk parakeet.

"First, I'd like to say thank you!" Fred called out over the crowd. "For coming to mine and Emma's birthday party! Second, I'd like to say that I am not drunk, despite what Emma is probably thinking," he grinned down at me and unfortunately, I thought throwing myself off the balcony was a little too dramatic to get out of this. Instead, I hid my face behind my hands. "Thirdly, I'm up here because I have a proposition for you all. A challenge, if you will! See, I once told Emma that if we could make it to the roof of this building, we could fucking do anything …"

I suddenly glanced back up.

"OH, NO," Rose stormed forward as mutters and nervous laughter tittered through the party crowd. "Fred, I will haul your arse down from there! No one is climbing this goddamn building! YOU!" she suddenly added towards her husband, who had been watching this entire thing play out in amusement. "Don't encourage him!"

"I didn't even say anything!" Scorpius held up his hands in defence.

"Well," Fred cut back in. "True, we would prefer it, my dear Rosie, if you didn't end up as splatter on the concrete below this time."

"Remember how I call you one of my Idiot Twins? THIS IS WHY, FRED."

"And I never agreed to this!" I added.

Fred jumped down from the plastic table, thankfully. He approached us with a slight gleam in his eye and I suddenly realised that this had to be what his huge idea was, the reason he kept going on about why this party HAD to be in Rose's building. The thing I'd been bugging him about for so long … it was THIS? For Merlin's sake, Fred! I had to take a deep breath, or maybe five.

Admittedly, no, it hadn't been about the view when we'd joked about it last time, back in April. Nor was it out of defiance for the 'no roof access' rule either. We'd been in a weird place back then. An awkward place, only barely knowing what to do next, hesitating on whether to move forward or back or whether to even move at all. But Fred had looked me in the eye that night and dared me to climb up to the roof and sure, we might've only made it halfway before Rose nearly died, but I could remember what it was like to be hanging out over the London street with only Fred holding onto me. In that moment when I'd reached the third floor … I'd felt like we could do anything. And look where we had eventually gotten.

Imagine actually getting to that roof?

(Jesus, this is why I shouldn't be allowed to make decisions!).

"Rosie, you FELL last time," Fred pointed out once more, grabbing hold of his cousin's shoulders in excitement. "Don't you want to finally get up there? So many years living in this building, and you've never been on the roof! Bea!" he suddenly let Rose go to dash over to his cousin-in-law, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward. "You got to the third floor last time. We've got a bet going on, remember?" I crinkled my eyebrows, but apparently Bea knew exactly which bet Fred was talking about and to my surprise, the only sensible one of the group was now laughing.

"You don't have to convince me," she said.

"Bea, I don't know about–" Al began hesitantly.

"Oh, come on, dear husband!" Bea said, turning towards him. "Last time I did this, we actually got approved to adopt! If we could get to the roof … come on," she added, suddenly quietly and fiercely. "you know our children are literally just waiting for us."

Al sighed. "There's no correlation between that and–"

"Aw, she knows, Al!" Rose shoved her best friend. "C'mon, it's not about logic right now, this is about hoping! And, uh … not letting go," she added in a warning.

Suddenly, encouragement and enthusiasm started spreading throughout the party. I watched as more and more people stepped up to the plate, convincing their friends to do it, and Fred watched me with a grin that could split his face. Christ, that look was gonna kill me someday.

I stepped closer and he matched me until we were face to face.

"If you think it's stupid though, I won't do it," he suddenly felt the need to say.

But I just scoffed at him. "Fred, you couldn't convince me to not do it last time, what makes you think I could say no this time?" I said. "Let's just get to the fuckin' roof already."

Look, if you can imagine 30 odd-so people balancing on a thin balcony railing before being hauled and pulled up to the next storey above, then you pretty much have the idea of what happened next. I think it was something about the physicality of it, using sheer muscles, willpower, and teamwork, grabbing hands and pushing legs until you were scrambling over the railing, and then doing it all over again up to the roof. It was about something stronger than if we'd simply used magic to get up there. Lily apparently decided that this ridiculous building caper warranted the need for getting the music back, so she shoved the portable speaker in her pocket before reaching up and taking Scorpius' hands.

"Ohhhh god, I am nowhere near drunk enough for this!" Rose had anxiously been unable to let go of the railing and stand for what felt like a good ten minutes, until eventually we reminded her that that was probably a good thing. James and Libby took to the challenge with gusto, climbing up with almost no hesitations, though maybe an accidental stumble or two. There were occasional screams and some tears, and I noticed somewhere around the third floor that down in the street a group of Muggles had camera phones out, yelling and pointing up at what probably looked like mass lunacy to them. "I swear to god, if this goes viral …" I grumbled to Fred, but the comment went over his head because apparently, he'd forgotten once again what the internet was.

We were the firsts to reach the roof.

"C'mon, Emma!" Fred had already clambered up over the rooftop ledge and was leaning over, reaching for me. It was much too high for tiny me to reach without help. A few of Fred's ridiculously tall friends lifted me by the legs, and it was just enough to reach his hands. Oh, Christ. One wrong move and I was SO DEAD. Mummies, I can handle! Dead shit, no problem, but dangling over the street at the rooftop level of a three-storey building was making me sweat. "Come on, I've got you!" Fred called.

Down below, the party was screaming and cheering. Lily was still blasting the music. Fred heaved and thank the maker, I managed to get pushed and pulled enough to get my own leverage. My legs left the grip of our friends down below and I literally rolled over the edge of the roof and onto the dirty concrete instead. OHHHH MY GOD!

"I think I'm gonna throw up …" I groaned, hand pressing over my eyes.

But Fred was tugging it away and suddenly, he was there leaning over me. My heart clenched a little as he pulled me to my feet. Quite honestly, I was a little disappointed with the roof. I was expecting a secret Jacuzzi, a buffet, maybe some patio furniture at the VERY least, except all that accompanied us was a locked door with the sign 'roof access – MAINTANCE ONLY' and a lot of bird shit. But god, when Fred Weasley was looking at you like that …

"Welcome to the roof," he grinned.

I kissed him. Long, hard, until his fingers were curling against my hips, and nothing else mattered.

* * *

A/N: WHAT'S THIS? ANOTHER UPDATE THAT DIDN'T TAKE OVER A MONTH? WHAT KIND OF WIZARDRY? ? ?

This is unfortunately the end of Emma's POV :(((( But I'm so glad I did a second Emma chapter bc I just needed to get these moments out at least. I mean, mah girl Lily! Mama Terry! Libby and James! The ILY Incident from Emma's POV, and THEY GOT TO THE FUCKING ROOF, FINALLY!  
I seriously hope yall liked this! Please tell me what you thought!

Incredibly, I think I can now actually say that this fic is... _near the end?_ Oh Jesus. I'm literally talking a couple more chapters, like 2 or 3 or something and I swear to god, this shit will be over. For months now I've wanted nothing more than for this fic to just be bloody done with already, but now that I'm suddenly facing the end it's like...oh no. ohhhh nOOO. OHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Fred and Emma honestly mean way too fucking much to me to explain in words. I love this universe and all my faves, but Fred and Emma are somethin' else entirely. I dunno if yall get what I mean, but I would really love to hear what it is about Fremma that keeps you reading this fic, because it's fucking ridiculous that yall are even reading a Fred Weasley II/OC story to begin with, hahahhahsghsgh

I'm emotional. I love you guys so much!  
Moon. xoxo


	38. That one time I helped catch a killer

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

 _we're back with Fred, bitches_

* * *

Chapter 38: That one time I helped catch a killer.

WE MADE IT TO THE FUCKIN' ROOF, BITCHES.

Thankfully, someone had the foresight to levitate the alcohol up with us so that the party could continue. Everyone kept cheering, Lily's music was loud and thumping, and it was weird but I felt a kind of happy that I don't think I'd felt since before my dad had died. I was slapped on the back several times and Bea was quick to fling her arms around me, once Emma had finally stopped kissing me, that is.

"I'M GETTIN' MY BABIES!" she cried.

I span around with Bea before plonking her back down. "FUCK YEAH, YOU ARE!"

"Ok, so what's this bet you guys have made?" Emma asked then, slinging her arm around my waist as we talked.

"That Al and I would get a kid before the end of the year," Bea explained. Her eyes glittered, red flushing her cheeks as she added, "Look … don't tell anyone this, but our social worker said she was looking into a potential match. We're literally just waiting to see whether we get approved and then … we get to meet them."

" _Them?_ " Emma grinned.

"There's four kids, apparently," She looked faintly terrified at the thought, but still giddy and smiling. "Oh god, seriously don't mention this to anyone, I'm probably not even supposed to say! Nothing's confirmed, I don't know whether it will even – but thank you Fred," She glanced up at me once more. "Logically, I know that climbing a building doesn't affect what will happen … but there's just something about this roof, ok?"

Thing is there WAS something about this roof. Somewhere within the last few minutes or so it had turned into a dance party up here, as Lily was now jumping up and down and everyone else moving to follow her lead. Maybe it was just because of how off-limits it was, maybe it was the darkness aside from the street lights and stars, maybe there was just something in the atmosphere, but it had sent everyone into a giggling, celebrating mess. I tugged on both Emma and Bea's hands, dragging them into the crowd after me. The current beat was heavy and rockin' and Bea was immediately swept up by James, who spun her around enthusiastically. There's something about swaying to a beat, and Emma pressed her back to my chest, reaching up with a hand behind her to thread into my hair. I didn't need to say anything. The music did that all by itself.

I vaguely noticed my surroundings. Sarah and Libby were swinging around with some other work friends. Dom was flirting with at least half of them. Scorpius and Rose were kissing heavily against the 'MAINTANCE ONLY' sign. I hadn't expected Yael and Kayla to come tonight, what with the stress they were always under, but even they'd made an appearance, the latter gossiping with Sapphire and Yael apparently searching for drinks. Other faces drifted in and out of my vision, all wanting to say happy birthday, and at one point Emma and I unfortunately got separated as we were dragged into different conversations.

I mean, it was rather hard to say no when Emma's brother waylaid you.

"FRED, my buddy!" Peter thumped me on the back.

"Oh, Jesus, not you," I mock complained. "You're the terrifying one! Where's Ben? He likes me."

"HA! Ben's a wuss," Peter snorted. "Can't even make it past ten o'clock, these days. Besides, everyone knows Martin and I are the best at parties."

"Can't argue that point. Thanks for coming, mate," I said, honestly.

"Ehhhh … you're all right," Peter shook my hand after a moment of contemplation. "Where is my sis, anyway? I should probably say happy birthday again, otherwise she'll get mad."

"I dunno actually, I kinda lost her somewhere along the way," I glanced vaguely around, but she could literally be anywhere. "You could wish me happy birthday instead?"

"Maybe, if you get enough alcohol in me."

"Was that you trying to get a free drink out of me?"

"Do you love my sister or not?"

I just scoffed, but found Peter his drink anyway.

Eventually, I found Emma.

After dodging several more calls for my attention, I finally managed to slip out of the main dancing crowd and head across to the edges of the roof. Here, it was more chatting and people pairing off and I guess a million parties ago, that had been us. A mummy and a barbarian who didn't know each other at all, but liked each other enough to talk and flirt until eventually, the party wasn't worth sticking around for.

 _("So Emma. Wanna get out of here?"_

 _She literally laughed in my face. "Oh – oh my god!"_

 _Look, it wasn't the first time I'd ever been laughed at. You strike out a lot of the time, you can't take it personally, but I admittedly felt a little blindsided at her disbelief that I could be anything less than serious here. It wasn't the kind of response I'd been expecting._

 _But then again, maybe she was just laughing because some tosser in a barbarian costume was hitting on her and thought he stood a chance._

" _Hey! It's not just a line I say to all the girls," I mentioned._

" _YA! Right," Emma rubbed her eyes._

" _I'm fucking serious," I frowned. "Honestly – Emma, right? – look, you are hot. I should not be doing this at all because you're mates with James and Libby and everything, but fuck it. I'll say it again. D'you want to get out of here?"_

 _She thankfully didn't laugh this time. In fact, she kind of eyed me with a look that said a myriad of things: I can't believe you're asking me this … I can't believe I'm considering it … shit, what underwear did I put on today? … I offered all I could, which was basically just a sheepish grin and a shrug, but from her giggle, I'd say it worked. Emma glanced around anxiously, but then met my grin with one of her own. Then, she moved forward and pressed her lips warm and firm against mine_ ).

Emma leaned against the concrete ledge that we had climbed over earlier, watching out over the street corner. I didn't need to say anything really as I moved to lean in next to her. She shifted a little as she noticed my presence, but stayed silent as well. The last several days had been … eye-opening. Don't think I didn't notice her acting like a fucking weirdo when she finally just moved all her stuff in and told her landlord she wasn't coming back! I kinda wanted to laugh, honestly. The amount of times I'd been in her shoes, it was nice to be the sane one for a change.

I watched the street corner move beneath us. Muggles were still standing in clumps, pointing up at us every now and then. If we weren't careful, this building was going to get overrun with people who wanted to join a dance party! Either that, or we were going to go viral, and let's face it, at this point we've pushed the Statue of Secrecy enough times that the Ministry wouldn't hesitate throwing us all in Azkaban. How Rose and Scorpius hadn't even gotten themselves evicted by this point was anyone's guess. The streetlights flickered, basically the only source of light up here, and it washed Emma's face with orange. I nudged her slightly with an elbow and said,

"Hey."

"Hey," she smiled without looking away from the street.

"Your brother just ambushed me, I hope you realise."

"Peter and Martin came?" Emma asked. "Aw, I haven't managed to catch them yet, bless 'em!"

"Yeah, well that's not surprising seeing as you came rocking on up straight from work," I pointed out. "I thought you might've at least gone home first!"

"I would have – I seriously need a change of clothes," Emma winced at her work uniform. "but I was too excited, and then you pulled off this ridiculous stunt and I just haven't had the time."

"Ridiculous? What, I never!"

"Right," Emma laughed. "c'mon, Fred, exactly how long have you been planning this?"

I actually didn't know for sure, but I answered, "Probably since Rose's birthday, to be honest."

"You wanker," she said. "gettin' all emotional on me."

"Happy birthday," I grinned, nudging her with an elbow.

She waved a hand at me exasperatedly, but said, "Happy birthday."

"Bit late, but it's worth it, right?"

"Dunno what I've done to deserve ya," she scoffed, but if I squinted, there was a hint of sincerity in there.

"Aw, c'mon … we simply had to get to the roof at some point!" I said.

"Good view, huh?"

"Shit view, but whatever makes you feel better," I smirked. "Look, Emma, you know we had to make it up here, just as much as Bea did, just as much as last time. Because if we can do this, we can …"

Do anything, I guess? Wasn't that the point of the mysterious roof? I guess somewhere in my head I had figured that if we could make it up here, then I'd somehow find those elusive nerves that seemed to fail me every time I got to this point in the past. Look, I know that climbing a building has no correlation to telling someone you loved them, but like Bea, I was a little hysterical by this point! My heart had leapt into my throat choking me just like it did every damn time while Emma just continued to stand next to me, none the wiser. COME ON, FRED. Now was SERIOUSLY the time! This was it, this was the moment I'd been planning for months, this wasn't over bloody tax returns or as a result of intoxication, this was Pure and Wholesome and all that other bullshit. YOU CANNOT MESS THIS UP!

 _Dad did not die for me to mess this up_.

"You are nuts," Emma was saying. "and we are never doing this again, by the way!"

"I love you."

I figured it would probably be a bit dramatic to jump off the roof after that, so I unfortunately forced myself to hold my ground.

Emma froze, staring at me. She didn't even blink! It was a bit disconcerting, actually. Thing was … _fuuuuuuuck,_ I kind of felt ok. I felt nauseous beyond belief and kind of like I might just throw up any second, but it was finally out in a way that counted and it was like I could suddenly stand up straight again. I JUST DID THAT! Hell, I was only panicking a little bit, as Emma continued to just stand there and not say anything in response. Look, no matter what she eventually said, I'd take it. Anything at all, I deserved whatever she gave me after all I put her through.

Yep! I was good.

Thankfully she did move eventually though, except it was only to hide her face in her hands. "Uhhhhh, Emma?" I said.

She just shook her head, squeaking slightly.

"Did I break you?" I asked. "Wait – holy shit, are you _crying?_ " I added, since I caught the tiny gasp and at that, she apparently couldn't keep it in anymore. She sobbed into her hands and I laughed, "YOU'RE CRYING, oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with me …"

She made some kind of incoherent noise, but couldn't seem to actually get any words out. I just snorted, tugging her into my side. I let her sob into my shoulder, Emma apparently grinning through the tears.

This girl was bloody nuts.

"We can't get anything right, can we?"

She shook her head.

"Sorry I made you cry."

She suddenly pulled back. Reaching up, she pulled my face to hers and now my cheeks were as wet as hers as she kissed me. She was warm and fierce and you know, if I'd known that this was where I'd end up that first night I'd met her … oh, who am I kidding, that Fred would have run for the hills no matter what you told him. But hey.

I'm here now.

When she pulled back, she gestured vaguely over her shoulder and said, "I, guh – Liiii, yunno–?" which I'm assuming meant something like, _don't mind me, I just gotta go find Libby and scream about this for a bit, 'kay?_ I snorted with laughter as I nodded and she disappeared into the crowd. Taking a deep breath, I leaned back against the rooftop wall once more. MERLIN. I've done a lot of shit I thought impossible over the last few years, but blimey did that blow everything else out of the water! I found myself suddenly looking up at the sky for a moment.

I closed my eyes.

"Hey, Dad. I did it. Hope you're proud of me."

(And that might've just been the dumbest thing I'd ever said in my life, but still).

I grinned, a new spark of energy igniting. I delved back into the crowd and I noticed my dear Sapphire, now simultaneously downing a drink and dancing by herself. "YO, BITCH!" I yelled and I was glad that we were at the point where we just understand each other now from that one word. She glanced around and her face lit up.

"BIIIITCH!" she yelled back, dancing her way over and grabbing my arm. "Party is smashin', I have to admit, mate."

"You'll NEVER fucking guess what just happened!" I said.

"Try me."

"Sapphire, _I told Emma I loved her_."

She stared for a moment, before finishing the last of her drink in one gulp.

"Oh my god, it's five months ago," she said.

I shoved her shoulder. "I'm being serious!"

"That's what worries me," Sapphire stressed. "Tell me, how much have you had this time? Did she slap you? Oh my god, girl sooooo should have slapped you last time–"

"I'm not drunk," I said, exasperatedly. Taking her empty drink out of her hands and dropping it onto a nearby plastic table, I pulled her in to a dance. "Really, Saph, I actually did it this time! Like properly, it was sweet and pure and all that other crap and everything!"

"No fuckin' way. _Shiiiiiiit!_ " Sapphire's eyes went wide.

"BE PROUD OF ME, DAMN IT!"

"Oh my god," I didn't blame Sapphire's immediate scepticism – she'd been there the first time I'd royally fucked up – but at least she span me around now, holding onto my hands tightly. "Wait, you need to tell me everything, clearly," she added. "I can't properly judge until I have all the information."

"I 'spose, considering you ARE the best at judging," I grinned.

She smacked my shoulder. "What happened? Did she say it back?"

"Oh, uhhhh – no, erm, she kind of cried, actually …"

Sapphire smacked her forehead.

"But it was good crying!" I insisted.

"That's what they all say," She smirked behind her fingers.

"I swear!" I'd admittedly panicked at first when Emma had suddenly broken down, but that kiss afterwards had been enough to tell me that it was what she'd wanted to hear … I think. I mean, being terrible at identifying emotions IS kind of my thing, SOOOOO what the hell do I know, really?

"I was so sure I'd fucked up again somehow," I admitted to Sapphire then.

"HOW DIDN'T YOU, is what I'd like to know!" she cried.

"Beats the fuck outta me!" I threw up my hands. "I mean, honestly, Saph – I fuckin' said that! ME. I SAID THAT! Who the hell am I? The Fred of two years ago NEVER would have said it. Hell, not even the Fred of one year ago! There was a point in time that I would've slept with literally anyone and now, I can't even remember what sex without Emma is like. Can you believe there was even a point in time when I would have leapt at the chance to sleep with you, if I'd ever been able to convince myself that it was a good idea?"

"Oh, I'm not forgetting the years you spent hitting on me any time soon. But I'm assuming you're talking about the last time? When you kissed me at a bar and I later crashed on your sofa?" Sapphire raised an eyebrow. "Because YA, I remember that well, I spent the entire night trying to get you to talk to me about Emma!"

"Did you, in the end?" I asked.

Sapphire snorted. "Well, you didn't so much as talk as complain for half an hour straight about how she wasn't owling you back, but I considered that a success."

"Wait, why wasn't she owling me back?"

"The fuck if I know, how many times have we been through the 'Emma isn't talking to Fred because he's being a huge tosser' stage at this point?"

"Fair call," I acknowledged. I was jostled in the side then by some drunken party-goer, and I tugged on Sapphire's hands as I stepped closer. "So c'mon, are you proud of me or what?"

"Oh, Fred," Sapphire swung herself into my arms. "how can I not be proud of you?"

I grinned.

We danced for a while then, jumping underneath the stars. Hair-shaking and belting out the words, I guess I was still kind of waiting for that moment when someone would say, 'haha, you were fooled, yOU fOOL!' Like Emma might turn up any second now to inform me that I was in fact a psychopath and that she would never love me as well. Nothing felt very real on that rooftop, and I was starting to think it never might at this rate! Thankfully, my head got distracted by others out in the crowd – Rose giving me a hug, one of James' Quidditch mates wishing me a late happy birthday – and Yael and Kayla who turned up halfway through a song and ended up joining us. After a rousing chorus of scream-singing Clara Knightley, the four of us lapsed into cheery conversation, Kayla disappearing for a moment and somehow returning with a full bottle of tequila.

"Where the fuck did you find that?" Sapphire laughed.

"Honey, if there's a party, I always bring the tequila," Kayla knocked back a shot.

Sapphire seemed impressed. "And I always thought of you as the sensible one."

" _Please_ ," Yael waved a hand. "Apparently neither of us know the meaning of the word 'chill'."

" _Mmmm_ – though to be fair," Kayla pointed out, hastily swallowing to talk. "That might be less of our actual personalities and more stress-induced. I've noticed that we tend to get more gung-ho the less sleep we're operating on."

"Behold! The protectors of our community and official serial-killer catchers, everyone," Sapphire bowed to them both. Yael shoved her shoulder as she sniggered. "What?" she asked. "It's not like there's been much serial-killer catching going on lately."

"GIRL," Kayla complained.

"What?"

"Come onnnn!" I said. "You know that's a low blow."

"We're working on it!" Yael said defensively. His hand absently reached up to Kayla's shoulder, rubbing it gently as she passed the tequila around the circle. "Pushing the mail angle is going nowhere, but Jesus it's _right there_! We just need proper evidence, _something_ to give us just cause, and then we can try and lure him out–"

"With me and Emma far away," I added, hastily.

"With you and Emma FAR, FAAAAR AWAY," Yael reiterated firmly with an encouraging smile.

"SPEAKING OF EMMA!" Sapphire suddenly piped up. "YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT FRED JUST DID!"

Yael and Kayla glanced at each other then, in that ridiculous silent-y partner way of theirs. You know, when they exchange the Meaningful Looks that allow them to have entire conversations without actually speaking. And I thought Emma and I were good at not talking!

"I'm not paying you even if it's true–" Yael quickly began and Kayla groaned at what was clearly some long held argument. "For the last time, Kayla, it wasn't a real bet!"

"It was and you know it!" Kayla huffed. "You just don't want to draw attention to the fact that it was a stupid bet to make."

"What the fuck did you guys bet on?" I sighed.

"That you would propose. Tell me you didn't propose!" Kayla held her breath.

"FUCK OFF, I DIDN'T PROPOSE."

" _Yuuuus!_ " Kayla punched the air.

"I'm not paying," Yael said, stubbornly folding his arms across his burly chest. Kayla, however, slowly snaked her arms around one of his, hugging it tight to her. She rested her chin on his arm, looking up at him with a sweet grin that would surely break through anyone's defences. "Honestly …" he grumbled.

"I'M SORRY, I'M STILL ON YOU BET THAT I'D PROPOSE?" I cried.

"Apologies, mate, I was feeling optimistic," he shrugged.

"I CAN BARELY ADMIT THAT WE'RE EVEN TOGETHER AND I'VE ONLY JUST TOLD THIS WOMAN I LOVE HER, LET'S BACK THE FUCK UP HERE A LITTLE, SHALL WE?"

"Fred, I think only dogs can hear you right now," Sapphire mentioned.

Oh, right. Yeah, let's bring it back down a few decibels. My heart was pounding, but that was when the real news had apparently gotten through to Yael and Kayla. They both _awww_ 'd and it was almost worse than thinking that there was a point in which I'd ever be getting bloody _married_. I mean … SHITBALLS. Let's cross that bridge in like, twenty years or something, ok?!

"Yael, did you hear that? Fred loves a girl!" Kayla teased, her head against his arm.

"Eh, we've known that for years," he shrugged, jostling her a little.

"Difference this time is that I actually told her," I said. "And I wasn't even drunk! Go on, you can be at least a little proud of me."

"You're failing to mention the best part," Sapphire was quick to add. "She _cried_."

Both Yael and Kayla burst out laughing.

"Bless her! Where is she, I gotta give the girl a hug or something," Kayla grinned.

"Oh, I spoke to her just before, when you were talking to James?" Yael mentioned. "She said she was going to go home and get properly changed, since she'd just come straight from work."

"Oh, yeah," I nodded.

But I glanced between the three of them, ending on Yael's face. It was weird, but I stood there with my mates and suddenly, something felt off. I don't even know how to explain it really, it kind of just hit like a wave out of nowhere. Why the hell was I suddenly worried over the idea of Emma leaving the party and going home to get changed? It wasn't like it was a shock, she'd literally told me that she was going to! But the irrational uneasiness still flooded over me, and I scuffed a shoe into the rooftop.

"How long ago was that?" I asked.

"Hey," Kayla seemed to catch the look on my face. "What's wrong? Something's wrong–"

"Boy, you Aurors are good," I pointed out.

"'You Aurors' he says, like he's not going to be one soon," Kayla poked me in the side. "C'mon, Fred! Are you worried about Emma for some reason?"

"Look," I said, hastily. "It's just a feeling. I literally can't explain it–"

"No, no, never ignore a feeling!" Yael exchanged nods with Kayla next to him. "Is it Reddale you're anxious about?"

I hesitated. I mean, what the hell was I suspecting here, that Reddale was hiding in our bloody pantry or something? Right, yes, he was definitely in there crouched among the bag of moulding potatoes! Emma had gone home to get changed, just like she had mentioned earlier that she wanted to do. This shouldn't be some kind of trigger event that was making me freak out like this, there was absolutely no reason to be worried at all! We were careful about what we sent, we made sure not to use Ravi, no mail ever reached us looking tampered with and the wards were never breached!

… not that that meant much.

"Fine, yes, but I don't know why!" I burst out in irritation. "We aren't in immediate danger, nothing weird has happened lately and there hasn't been a murder or direct sign from him in months. I guess, I dunno, a part of me thinks … it's just worried. It's stupid, I know."

"It proves that you care, Fred," Yael pointed out. "Yes, you are stupid as a general rule, but worrying about someone that you love isn't."

"Oi! I mean, you've got a point," I added. "but still, OI!"

My friends laughed, but eventually it died down so that they could glance at each other once more. Apparently coming to the same conclusion, Kayla then said, "Look, if you want to calm your head, we could ask you some questions, make sure we've covered all the bases? But I'm sure Emma's fine–"

"Nah, nah, ask me," I said at once. "She's more likely to turn up halfway through that way, and I'm fine with looking like an idiot."

Kayla grinned. "Ok. Fred, within the last 24 hours, have you ever felt unsafe or that your life may be in danger?"

"No."

"Have you noticed anyone regularly hanging around your building? Could look completely innocent looking, even a professional?"

"It's all just people who have always been there," I admitted. I'd definitely been watching.

"Has anyone come to your door recently for whatever reason?"

"God, um – ok," I hastily tried to think. "Uh, I think Mrs Ramsey knocked to come and yell at me the other day. The bloke in the flat next to ours came to complain about noise?"

"All right," Yael took over. "Think about your mail, what have you sent recently? What have you received?"

"Just today?" I reiterated. "Blimey, I think … I may or may not have written a ridiculous note to send to Clara, just baby talk really. And Emma sent me an owl from work when she knew that she was going to be working late?"

"Which owls were used?"

"Ravi sent the note to Clara," I admitted. "Well, possibly, I mean that bird could've gone to fuckin' Spain and I wouldn't be surprised, but it was literally just mundane kid stuff I wrote to her, nothing that might give away important information. Emma's was sent with an owl from her work, although I admittedly thought it was Ravi at first …"

UH-OH.

Cogs suddenly started turning. It was a bit bizarre, this anxiety coming out of nowhere, and I had kind of narrowed it down to weird left-over emotion over the whole ' _I love you_ ' thing, but I think I've found where it was coming from! I knew what the next question out of Yael's mouth would be – what was in that owl? – and I had the answer straight away. Emma had written down how she was still working, how I should just eat by myself and that she'd meet me straight at the party. _What if._

 _WHAT IF._

"Yael," I suddenly choked. "Kayla …"

That owl was enough. If Reddale had made the same mistake that I had, thought it was Ravi and gotten hold of it, he would have known that tonight Emma wasn't going to be home. It was only going to be me. He would break in, silent and without detection like he always somehow could, and all he'd have to do was sit and wait … wait until I came home.

Except I wasn't the one who had gone home first like he thought.

Emma was.

* * *

I think Yael, Kayla and Sapphire nearly had mini heart attacks at my outburst.

"WE HAVE TO LEAVE, NOW!"

"Wait, what?" they were all yelling after me as I ran for the 'maintenance only' door. Shoving my way through the crowd, my head was ringing like it might do after a significant explosion. "FRED!" Yael was strong enough that grabbing my arm was enough to hold me back. "What the hell is going on?"

"Let go of me," I growled. "I'm serious as fuck, either come with me, or let go."

"I'm letting go!" Yael held up his hands. "But what is it, did you think of something written in that owl that might have been incriminating?"

"Emma's owl said that she wasn't going to be home tonight!" I was trying SUPER hard not to panic, here. "That owl looked like Ravi, Reddale might have intercepted it. He could be sitting there waiting for me, but Emma's gone home by herself and–" I cut myself off at the slightly pitiful, slightly sceptical looks on their faces. " _Look_ ," I added, desperately. "I know this is a stretch, I know we'll probably get there and find her perfectly fine, I know that usually you'd have to do this the proper way, call it in, interview me, but guys … _please_."

No, I couldn't explain the feeling, but at this point, I'd learned to trust them. Maybe it had taken me a while to trust the Emma feelings (BOY, had that taken a while!) but the feeling I'd gotten when Reddale had first broken out of that courtroom? I'd somehow just known something was going to go wrong. It was the feeling that told me that I was made to do this Auror thing, it was something I had learned to listen to, and I prayed that Yael and Kayla would listen as well, because they were my only hopes at this point.

No hesitation, they pulled out their wands.

I sighed. "Thank you."

Luckily, Rose and Scorpius were no longer blocking the door, so I don't think we caused a commotion when we left my own party like bats out of hell. Apparating the second we made it out of the open, we reappeared inside my lounge …

… only to give Emma the fright of her fucking life.

"Spread out!" Kayla yelled, wand raised high. I pulled out my own, clammy fingers clenching the wood. However, barely even a minute later a strangled scream came from the bathroom as apparently, Yael had crashed in on Emma while she was in the shower.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" she fumed, storming out with nothing but a towel around her.

"EMMA!" I yelled, practically throwing myself at her.

She was obviously as confused as hell, but still let me haul her into my arms. Her hair was wet but her skin was hot, and _oh thank Merlin_ that I was wrong. In the background I could hear Yael and Kayla continuing to clear the flat, arguing with Sapphire that she shouldn't be here, but it was all dulled in favour of knowing that Emma was actually ok.

"What's going on?" Emma asked again then, her voice much gentler this time.

"I suddenly realised – something you sent today could have been bad if Reddale got his hands on it," I didn't want to scare her, but I had to tell the truth. I let Emma pull back so that she could tug her towel more securely around her, staring at me. "and then I realised that you had come home to get changed where he … he could have been waiting for you."

"Oh," Emma said, faintly. "Well … fuck."

"The place is clear!" Yael announced then, him, Kayla and Sapphire all stomping back into the lounge. "Again – er, sorry, Emma–"

"It's ok – are you guys trying to tell me that REDDALE was here while I was in the shower?" Emma asked in horror.

"I don't know, I don't know – _damn it_ , this is the closest we've gotten in months!" Yael rubbed his beard furiously.

"We know that he can get into places undetected, don't give up," Kayla said, fiercely. "Let's start canvassing the building, maybe Emma startled him when she came home instead of Fred. He might not be far away!"

In a flurry of movement, we made plans to fan out throughout the entire building. Emma hastily pulled on clean clothes, her curls still dripping as each of us started at a different door. I immediately sprinted right across the hall to where my totally favourite person in the entire building lived. I pounded on the door, hollering,

"MRS RAMSEEEEEYYYYYYY!"

My Old Lady Neighbour was always less than thrilled to see me, and being disturbed this late at night apparently did not help in the slightest. With Otis the yapping monster snapping around her feet, she answered in a psychedelic bathrobe and her hair in curlers. "What the hell do you want?" she grumbled.

"Mrs Ramsey, for once I am not here to talk shit with you!" I said. "I'm serious, I need to know, have you seen or heard anything suspicious around here recently?"

"Not since you asked me last month. Why, what did you do this time?"

"We have reason to believe the Reddale Killer may have been in this building as recently as earlier tonight."

She clearly wasn't expecting that. Emma came hurrying out behind me, finally fully dressed as Mrs Ramsey's face went a little pale. Even Otis shut up yapping.

"Well, shit boy, you didn't say it was that urgent!"

"So you HAVE seen something?"

"Well, I don't know about suspicious," Mrs Ramsey, for all her annoyance, at least knew what a big deal this was. She carried on with, "No, I haven't seen anything untoward like that. Although with the amount of grief this building gives me, I still should have moved out years ago! _Honestly_ , you bringing in lunatic murderers, eggs thrown at my door on Halloween, those lads down the street stealing mail, delinquents, the lot of ya. You should all be locked up!"

I stared hard at Mrs Ramsey, my brain whirring again. Blimey, I was about to be sick any second. It was a long time ago, but her words had triggered a memory and I remembered a corner not far from here, where I'd noticed that you could see one of my windows from. I remembered a group of rowdy 'lads' who hung around the area, and add in 'stealing mail' …

I quickly yelled for the others. I noticed a couple of odd, curious looks from other residents, as Yael, Kayla and Sapphire knew to hastily come running. Emma held my arm tightly as I called them over to Mrs Ramsey's front door.

"I think I might know where he's gone," I said once they'd skidded to a halt. "There's an alleyway not far from here, just down on the nearest corner. Say he was waiting for me when Emma came home, it would have thrown him off. You guys know his profile better than I do, is he the type of person to return to a home base when spooked?"

Yael and Kayla just looked at each other and I knew that the answer was yes. "Ok, here's what's going to happen," Yael held his wand determinedly. "Sapphire, you are going to contact the Auror Office. You are going to get as much back-up as you can and bring them here as soon as possible. Fred, you and Emma are going to go back inside, lock all the doors and windows, and wait until someone comes to take your statement. Kayla and I are going after this bastard–"

"But I can–!"

"DON'T," Yael practically yelled.

It wasn't the outcome I wanted or hoped for, but by this point I'd learned the importance of letting the qualified people do their jobs. Even Sapphire didn't argue. Mrs Ramsey was all too happy to slam her door shut too as Emma and I locked ourselves back inside our flat. The first thing I did was run to jam my work intercom into my ear in case they needed to call for help, but for the first thirty seconds at least, it was suddenly all … silent.

I glanced around. Emma was standing quietly behind me in our room, the bed between us. She was blinking rapidly, her hands shaking and I sighed in a silent apology. I reached out and she practically launched herself across the bed to hug me.

"Hey …" I murmured, stroking her head. "Quit freaking out, you're fine–"

" _He was here, Fred_ ," she said muffled into my shirt. "HOLY SHIT, I could have been MURDERED!"

"Princess, please," I scoffed. "Like anyone could take you out that easily."

"Don't joke, you can't joke about this – _oh my god_ –"

I squeezed her tight, muttering, "I'm sorry …" She wasn't used to this kind of danger hitting so close to home. I'd dealt with it enough times to know how to disassociate from the danger but _blimey mate_ , it was hard when Emma was that close to it and I hadn't even given her a moment to process anything. I held her close, hand running through her hair. Not one part of me wanted to be rational, so while every inch of my brain screamed to run after Yael and Kayla, to help them and protect them, I forced myself to stay behind and let them do what they'd been trained to do. We were safe here, we would be ok here.

Besides, we've already been through this. Turns out I'm not quite ready to die yet after all.

"Can you hear what's happening?" Emma asked me then, moving back slightly so that she could rub her eyes.

"Nah, I could call them but I don't want to distract them in case shit's going down – come on!" I added, pulling her with me to the window.

"What, can you see something?" she asked, peering through the glass.

Down in the street, you could see the corner not too far away. The air was crisp out there, and I didn't know whether the street was dark because it was just naturally eerie tonight, or because the street lights had been blown out on purpose. If any Muggle looked out they might've been none the wiser, but we weren't quite as blinded …

"Is that light from a duel down there?" Emma pointed out uneasily.

"It's hard to tell," I answered.

I don't know how long we waited in silence for. I leaned against the window frame, forehead pressed to the glass while Emma's hand snaked into mine. The whole reason any of this was happening was because of me being paranoid. What if it was all just in my head? What if I wasn't doing quite as well as I'd originally thought and the stupid grief just got my friends killed? I didn't know if I'd be able to survive someone getting hurt because of me. It felt like an age as we waited. Looking back, it couldn't have been more than a couple minutes, but it definitely felt like 10 years.

Then the intercom in my ear suddenly crackled:

" _FRED – GET HERE NOW–"_

It spurred instant action. Yael's voice was something I'd literally never heard before. Shocked, panicked, distraught, all at once. I put up a half-hearted fight at Emma insisting on coming too, but half-hearted since it was clear that there wasn't time for it. We opted for a little illegal Apparition straight into the street, all while Yael was now also screaming for Sapphire to call the mediwizards in my ear.

We burst into the alleyway, wands raised. The first thing I noticed was the scorch marks, the exploded rubbish skip, clear evidence of a fight having gone down. The second thing were the bodies on the ground. Two of them. One was lying at unnatural angles about halfway down the alley, shrouded in the shadows. The other was closer …

Yael was barely coherent. "Oh, shit–" I swore when I realised that he was on his knees at Kayla's side, his hands hovering, apparently afraid to touch her. I grabbed Emma's wrist behind me, clenching once before letting go. Then, I darted forward and shook Yael's shoulders.

"ARE YOU HURT?" I yelled in his face.

He looked up wildly. "Not – not me," he gasped. "He's – he's dead, holy fuck – but Kayla got held down, I – I don't know how long she couldn't breathe for – FRED–"

"HEY," I shook him once more. "You're an Auror, keep it together! Emma – tip her head back, see if she's breathing!" I added, Emma nodding at once before crouching down next to Kayla. I pressed the intercom in my ear and said, "Calling Agent Sapphire Bates – SAPPHIRE – where the fuck is back up?!"

It took a few moments for an answer. I kept holding Yael's shoulder until she answered, " _On route! Be there any second_ –"

"We need mediwizards too, now," I quickly cut in. "You know that, right? We've got an Auror down."

" _Wait, fuck! – Who–?_ "

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "It's Kayla. Is she breathing?" I called over.

Yael was holding Kayla's hand. It looked like he was struggling to breathe, sobs wracking every other breath. Emma looked up from where she gently held back Kayla's chin and answered, "She's breathing, but still unconscious."

"Did you get that?"

" _Yeah, yeah – fucking Merlin_ –" Sapphire broke off to yell at someone. In the distance, I think I could hear the unmistakable cracks of Apparition. " _Ok, mediwizards are on their way_ –"

"Good, the Aurors are also here now I think," I added.

" _Fred_ ," Sapphire began, tentatively. " _is Kayla going to be ok?_ "

I couldn't give her an answer.

* * *

We didn't tell anyone at the party what had gone down. It felt like it would cause yet more unnecessary panic and after the last wild half hour or so that we'd had, I was about ready for things to calm the fuck down!

The four of us were only a small part of the vigil waiting for Kayla to regain consciousness at St. Mungo's. Kayla's family apparently consisted of a mum, a step-dad, and about a half dozen siblings and half-siblings. As well as us and the Grover's, there was also Yael and Kayla's Control Auror and good friend, Liam Bolton, Head Auror Huntley and even Uncle Harry turned up at one point.

"Blimey, everyone's turning out for this!" I mentioned when Harry showed up at the hospital, a grim look on his face.

"Fred," he sighed. "You're not hurt, right? Emma?"

"Not at all," Emma answered from her spot next to me.

" _Good_ ," Harry was clearly a little wary, rubbing his eyes. "After … Merlin, Angelina wouldn't ever forgive me."

"I'm fine," I reiterated. "Why are you here, then?"

"Oh, if anything's ever to do with Reddale, I'm here!" Harry insisted. "What the bloody hell happened?"

"Is that an official question? Because we've already given our statements like, ten times by this point," I mentioned. "and if you want the whole story you'd need to talk to Yael, but uh …"

I just gestured vaguely over to where my friend sat waiting. This whole thing had honestly happened so quickly, there really hadn't been any time to just sit down and process what any of it meant. I couldn't get the image of that second body out of my head. Like, had Reddale actually finally been tracked down in that duel? Had he really been KILLED? I MEAN … MATE! I wasn't sure I could even begin to explain how much that meant. Reddale had been hanging down over all of us for too damn long. It had been several years since he had attacked me, and I had even talked about it with Hannah during therapy, but you don't ever stop wanting justice for that kind of thing. And not just for me, but for my friends too. Ever since I'd known them, I'd watched Yael and Kayla both slowly get beaten down little by little, until there was barely any of themselves left. Everything in their lives had simply boiled down to Reddale … and now, they were free.

But Yael was clearly not dealing too well with all that. He sat with his head in his hands and the air that if you so much as breathed in his direction, he would kill you. It didn't help that his formidable yet usually rather deceiving appearance was actually adding to the look at this point. You know, I still don't really know what the ever loving fuck the relationship was between him and Kayla! It was clear that Kayla's family recognised him, knew him even, as they kept looking over like they wanted to approach, but not really knowing how. I mean, who the hell knew? They were probably worse than me and Emma, and that had to be saying something!

God, I hoped Kayla was all right. She was a good friend. Kind and fierce, on to it and able to think clearly when it mattered most … not to mention that Yael was clearly a mess without her.

Uncle Harry thankfully opted to go and talk to Head Auror Huntley, rather than try and pry information out of Yael. He even hugged me, which not going to lie, made me want to tear up a little! "You can't tease me for crying ok?" I added at the look on Emma's face. "YOU, of all people!"

"That wasn't crying," Emma waved off. "I was cleaning my eyeballs, obviously."

"Obviously," I snorted, hastily wiping at my eyes. "Hey look, do you mind if I just go and sit with Yael for a bit? He looks like he needs it."

"Go ahead, seriously," Emma urged. "I'll go talk to Sapphire."

For a moment though, we hesitated to separate. Waiting together here outside the ground floor Emergency Department, I had to admit … it wasn't bringing back great memories. It was kind of a good thing I guess that I had blocked out so much of when I had been here with Dad. I don't think I would have been doing as well as I was if I hadn't. The entire night had been one adrenaline rush after the other that it was a wonder that we hadn't crashed entirely yet, especially since I knew that we all still had to be at least a little bit drunk. But we settled for squeezing hands, before turning and parting ways.

I made sure to step loudly and cough as I sat down next to Yael, making it clear that I had approached. He didn't move. Didn't look up, even though the hunched over position had to be painful. "Hey," I said softly.

"Don't."

I glanced down at him. "Ok," I just shrugged. "What don't you want me to do?"

"Just _don't_ ," Yael moved then, shaking out his hands and running them distractedly through his hair. "Don't try and tell me it'll be ok, don't say it wasn't my fault or–"

"Well, it wasn't."

His knuckles clenched white.

"You weren't there."

"You're right, I wasn't," I said. "because both of us did the smart thing, and that was letting the trained professionals do their job, which they are bloody good at, by the way. If you don't want me to say that it wasn't your fault, then tell me what happened. Explain it to me."

Yael sighed. He still didn't look up, but he spoke, voice low and a little unsteady.

"We caught him by surprise. He wasn't on his game, he was probably spooked from the mix up between you and Emma. He's strong though. I couldn't protect myself and her at the same time. She got hit and he managed to hold her down, the same spell he used to strangle all his other victims. I don't even know how long for, it couldn't have been more than a minute. But eventually I realised that I only knew one spell that would break through anything, so …"

I nodded. "You killed him."

"I killed him," Yael let out a rattling breath. "Fuck, Fred, _I killed_ _him_! REDDALE."

Look, at the end of the day if anyone got to kill the bastard, I was glad that it was Yael. Maybe it was morally wrong of me to be encouraging revenge like that or whatever, but you know what, I'm not an Auror yet! However, that's only if it was something that he could carry on living with. Maybe I could do it, but Yael wasn't me. I wasn't sure if he would want to be touched, so I slowly wrapped a cautious arm over his back. Luckily, he didn't flinch or throw me off.

"Hey," I said, softly. "You did what you needed to. You saved Kayla, you saved yourself, and you got rid of someone who was definitely inherently evil. You did good, mate."

"He doesn't deserve death," Yael said, miserably. "We were so close to locking him up for life, and in the end he just died. That's not justice."

"It hardly ever is."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Yael asked, drawing in a choked and rattled breath. "Because I think I'm finally quitting, mate."

I squeezed him tighter. "You do whatever you need to. I'm sure."

He moved then. I didn't expect him to sit up and hug me tightly, but I let him cry into my shoulder regardless. They could honestly do whatever they wanted. Yael and Kayla definitely deserved some peace after all this.

I hoped that they'd eventually find it someday.

* * *

 _REDDALE KILLER DEAD_

 _Simon Fisherman, AKA. The Reddale Killer, was killed last night in a confrontation involving two Aurors, one of whom has suffered major injuries._

 _Mediwizards were called at 11.40pm last night to a residential street in Fulham after the confrontation that lead to the death of the infamous serial killer, who has terrorised the city of London since his first known killing in 2024. Fisherman, 39, was found guilty of several accounts of first degree murder and escaped custody before his sentence could be made earlier this year in January._

 _He was confirmed dead at the scene._

" _Tonight, we're confirming that the Reddale Killer, Simon Fisherman, was killed in a confrontation with the Aurors," Head of Homicide Department, Head Auror Donald Huntley, released in a statement last night. According to Huntley, Reddale had been tracked down when a planned attack on a potential victim, Mr Fred Weasley (26), went south._

 _A witness in Reddale's trial, Weasley spoke about the confrontation last night. "He was waiting for me. We thought he'd come after me, but my – Emma – went home first," He references to Miss Emma Terry (27), who was thankfully not hurt in the incident. It appears that the Reddale Killer fled the scene when he failed to apprehend his intended victim. Lead investigators of the Reddale case were called to the scene._

 _Auror Kayla Grover (29) was reportedly attacked and seriously injured in the confrontation that killed Reddale. She is currently being treated at St. Mungo's hospital, though it is reported that her condition is not life-threatening. Grover's co-investigator, Auror Yael Ingleson (31), was unavailable for comment._

" _Of course, loss of life is never the ultimate outcome we hope for," Head Auror Huntley also stated. "However, we are simply grateful that the Reddale Killer can no longer hurt anyone. It's been a long six years."_

 _It is estimated that the Reddale Killer strangled no less than 20 different people over the course of his life. A ceremonial vigil is being held for his victims tomorrow night at 6pm in Eastern London Cemetery._

* * *

A/N: HAHAHAHAHA LOOK WHO'S UPDATING AFTER DISAPPEARING FOR MONTHS!

I honestly did not intend on taking so long, I swear. I had an intense battle with my ol buddy Motivation, LOL. But I'm here, I did it, and I have the rest of the fic mostly finished so I can promise, barring any unforeseen catastrophes, that I'll have the next chapter up soon. There's only 1 more chapter and an epilogue left! hOLY SHIT!

SO FRED SAID I LOVE YOU FUIJFJFKJFJKJKF! AND THE REDDALE KILLER IS DEAD! I'm so sorry if this chapter felt rushed or something, idk, hell I don't even know if anyone's even reading this fic anymore or if you've all just given up on it haha. But please, pLEASE if you read it, let me know if you liked it!

I LOVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU! Thank you so much, you're all incredible.

Moon xoxo

PS. I know nobody cares about my real life, but if you've been with me since the GIR days, you'll know that I've been through school, university, travelling overseas ... now, I've gotten my first ever proper adult job! I'm finally a real teacher and I'm moving to a new city in a month's time, so yay, cONGRATULATE ME! :D


	39. That one time I heard it

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Chapter 39: That one time I heard it.

"KAAAAAYLA!" I yelled, waltzing into her hospital ward.

"Uggghhnnn," she complained in her raspy voice. "No more flowers, I swear to god–"

"Nah, don't worry, all you get is me," I grinned. She was thankfully able to sit up and accept my hug now, which made me feel a lot better about her being still stuck in the hospital. Despite it being confirmed that Reddale was like, dead and all, she still had a private room with about 50 billion guards outside. While it was nice to know that the Auror Office cared so much about their employees, it did make it rather difficult to visit, and I knew that Kayla was itching to get out of here. The table next to her bed was full of cards and flowers and the chair at her side was almost constantly filled by her partner.

"Blimey mate, do you ever go home?" I added to Yael, as I settled on the other edge of Kayla's bed. Yael just rolled his eyes and stuck his fingers up at me.

I snorted, smiling at Kayla instead. She looked like utter hell still, but hey, my friend was alive, so that was saying something. The spell that had been used to hold her down had left bruising and red-angry marks around her neck and the first day I remember she hadn't even been able to speak that well at all (which must have been fun whenever her huge-arse family came to visit). But she was getting colour back into her round face, matching her auburn hair once more, and I'd heard from Sapphire that she was apparently coming home soon, so I'd wanted to see her one last time before then.

"Still," I carried on, happily. "Glad you're not dead, Kayla."

"Me too," she smiled. Yael sniffed a little, holding her hand tightly like he always was. "Merlin, I still can't imagine that he's dead, though. _Dead_. We chased him for I don't know how many years …"

"Too many," Yael pointed out.

"But then hey, if this is what it took to get him, then I reckon it's worth it," Kayla mentioned.

"Don't say _that_ ," Yael complained. "You've given me more heart attacks the last few days than over our entire careers put together!"

"It's true, though," Kayla turned her head to look straight at him. "I would've died if it meant taking him down with me."

"WHIIIICH IS HONORABLE AND ALL," I rolled my eyes, since it was clear that they were going to get into some kind of tension-filled argument again. "but clearly, we are glad that nobody else had to die, so let's not keep tempting fate, huh?"

"Sorry," she said.

"Apology accepted," I squeezed her leg gently through the blankets. "Is it weird? Like, this guy's always been there in the back of your minds, it's gotta be strange to accept that he's actually dead …"

"Oh, I can accept it …" Yael muttered.

He held Kayla's hand clasped between both his own now, resting them against his lips. Kayla watched him with enough worry to say that they had already talked about what must have gone down in that alley. I had thankfully never had to kill anyone in the line of duty so far and sometimes, that concept scared me a little about becoming an Auror. All I had to do was watch Yael's face and I would plainly see what killing someone did to a person, even if the one who was dead was pure evil. It was never good for you. It's easy to say you'd kill for the people you care about, but when the idea of it was getting closer and closer to a reality … it was tough.

I noticed Kayla's thumb rubbing the skin of his hand. "I had to see the body," she admitted.

"Blimey," I cringed. "seeing it in the alleyway was enough for me!"

"I was unconscious, I needed to see it for myself," Kayla said. "It didn't feel real."

"I don't know if it ever will, really," Yael muttered.

"But we're alive," Kayla reminded him. He kissed her hand, eyes closed.

"You romantic idiots," I scoffed. "Kayla, when are you busting out of this joint, then?"

"Later today, I think," Kayla exchanged a glance with Yael who nodded. "My mum and step-dad are insisting on me staying at home with them for a while, so that'll be fun."

"I'll miss you," Yael thankfully seemed calm enough now to tease.

"Oh, you're coming with me," Kayla said at once. "I won't survive on my own!"

Yael laughed awkwardly, much to my amusement. "So is it true, then?" I asked next, glancing between the two of them.

"Is what true?" Kayla asked.

"C'mon," I said. "That you're both quitting."

They both sighed. It's weird how in sync these idiots were. I mean, I didn't blame them the slightest for choosing to quit. It made sense, considering Kayla having threatened to leave before and Yael literally telling me as such the night Reddale had been killed … but it still stung a little, to know that I had been THIS CLOSE to being an Auror alongside them. Y'know? They couldn't have waited like, a few more months? C'MON, GUYS! But even though I started training in almost two weeks' time, it wasn't a serious irritation at them. Now that Reddale was gone, if there was anything I could imagine at all it was definitely Yael and Kayla both quitting and settling down together somewhere in the southern countryside to open up a fuckin' cattery or something.

"You can blame Sapphire, by the way, she's the one who told me," I added, good-naturedly and Yael groaned.

"Goddamn it, Sapphire!" he said.

"I'm sorry, really," Kayla said. "but this is just something I have to do. We both do."

"NOPE. YOU HAVE BETRAYED OUR FRIENDSHIP FOREVER."

" _Fred_."

"Oh, FINE then," I mock sighed. "I SUPPOSE I'll have to accept your decision. I mean, we'll never get to take down killers together, but all things considered, that's probably for the best, HA. What are you guys gonna do now, then?"

"The hell if I know," Yael shrugged. "I've never been anything other than an Auror my entire life!"

"You've always liked the administration side of things," Kayla pointed out. "You could request a transfer to Control. Technically, you wouldn't be leaving the Aurors entirely, but you wouldn't have to do field work anymore?"

"I don't know if I'd be able to stay working in the Auror Office and trust myself to not volunteer for field work all the time," Yael sighed.

"True, you are ridiculous like that."

"Eh, I say go completely insane. Become a circus performer. Deep sea diver. Buy a bar!" I suggested.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Yael pointed out with interest.

"I was joking, BUUUT!" I glanced over at Kayla who snorted.

"Yeah, we'll quit the Aurors to start up a bar," she said. "We'll name it something like _Auror Patrol_ and the only people who drink there will be other Aurors and you."

"I see you've already thought of this future! I approve."

Kayla just laughed. "Thanks for coming to see me today," she said. "and thanks for … oh, I don't know, just everything I guess. I honestly don't think we would have ever caught Reddale without you."

"Aw, hey, I don't know about that …" I ducked my head, but Kayla and Yael both hugged me regardless.

They're sentimental like that.

* * *

Look, as we all know by this point, if Shit Goes Down, then Grandma Molly WILL in fact arm herself with tea and cake and force feed us all until we choke.

It wasn't the first time I'd been dragged along to a Weasley Family Get Together at the Burrow, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. There was literally no escaping this family! Only thing was … I hadn't been to the Burrow, nor had I been to a family get together at all since before Dad had died. There had been several meet ups since then, but I had refused to go to all of them up until this point. Something about being in the house where Dad lived, seeing the photos, seeing the family, being around everyone and yet knowing that Dad wasn't also going to be there … I couldn't do it.

I still didn't really know if I could do it.

"Hey …" Emma's voice was gentle as it called throughout our dark bedroom. I stayed hidden under the covers, even as she put her bag down, took her work robes off and came to sit down next to me. "It was one of those days, huh?" she asked.

"Did you see the owl?" I said in a muffled voice into my pillow.

"Yeah," Emma rubbed my hip through the duvet. "Family dinner tonight. Is that …"

Her question trailed off. At one point I had been so terrified of Emma knowing me, but now I couldn't be more thankful that she did, since it meant I didn't have to actually explain anything. She didn't really need to ask, she already knew. Honestly, I hated the pain and frustration that wracked me whenever I got like this. It happened more times than I cared to admit, and I think half the reason it felt so bad was simply because I was so determined to get better _right away_ that it was an even bigger crash when that just wasn't the case. Hannah always told me to not be so hard on myself, to give it time, but you guys know me. Looking after myself has never exactly been a strong suit of mine.

Thank god, Emma always seemed to magically know what to do to help. Sometimes she would shove coffee under my nose. Other times, she'd just climb into bed, no matter what time of day, and spoon me until I felt not-quite-so-terrible. This time was one of the latter moments, and I peeked an eye out from under the covers to watch her strip down and eventually crawl in behind me. Her hands were freezing against my chest, but somehow this woman fit perfectly around me and already, I felt a hundred times better.

"I miss him," I hoped my voice didn't sound too scratchy. "Every damn day, and I never seem to get better …"

"You are," Emma insisted. "The Fred I knew two months ago wanted to die."

"I want to die right now."

"Fair enough," she said, her arm clenching tighter, possessively around my waist. "but you won't."

"I know," I sighed. "but it's always so _fucking_ hard, Emma. I thought I could go to this dinner, I thought I'd be ok this time because I know Grandma and Granddad are just doing it for me after the whole Reddale thing. I know they just want to make sure that I'm safe, but I haven't been in that house since he died and I don't think I can do it–"

" _It's ok_ ," Emma cut over my ridiculous rambling. "Fred, I won't pretend to know what's going on in your head, but I'm doing my best to try here. This shit takes time and it's barely been a couple of months. You're not expected to be perfect right now. Hell, I don't think you're ever expected to be perfect. You certainly weren't perfect before then," She was teasing a little now. I didn't think it would work, but I could feel her smile against my shoulder blades and it almost felt like it could seep through our skin into me as well. "You should come with a warning: _'Fred Weasley, Human Disaster'_."

"Oi!" I reached back to pinch her skin lightly and she laughed, squirming away.

She had me. I turned over to face her, trying to dig my fingers into her ribs. She squealed and eventually, the wrestling turned into kissing. I didn't mean for it to get so heated, but when her hands pulled up my shirt like that it was kind of easy to tune out the rest of the world and forget the stabbing pains somewhere in my chest. Emma had that effect. Wrapped around her, it did eventually slow though until I was simply kissing her lips once more, then on her cheek, her forehead, her hair. We were quiet a moment, breathing against each other, until finally I murmured.

"I'll go if you come with me."

"Fred, you honestly don't have to go if you're not ready yet."

"I know," I said into her hair. "I guess that was me attempting to ask you to come with me without having to actually ask you to come with me."

Never having brought Emma to a Weasley family dinner before, it was a Big Deal, ok? If you could survive the screaming and the crying and the twenty questions from Grandma, then it was basically fact that you could survive anything. James used to bring girls to family events literally just to scare them off, but I'd never dared get that far in my entire life! Basically, if you were bringing someone to a Weasley dinner, it was either some chick you'd banged at a bar the previous night, or Serious As Hell, there was absolutely no in between.

I didn't know if there was a way to express all this to Emma without having to actually say any of it, so I kind of just stayed silent and hoped she'd figure it out. Her head dipped forward to press her lips to my chest.

"Of course I'll come," she murmured.

Which is how we'd ended up at my grandparent's crowded house, trying not to look at the walls and having suddenly gone from the loudest one in the room, to somehow wanting to blend in with the furniture! Boy I am just a bundle of laughs, aren't I? I'd thankfully managed to survive all the aunties and uncles hugging the shit out of me, and even Grandma Molly practically forcing a mini-mince pie down my throat ("Oh, Fred! Oh my baby, I'm so glad you could make it – here, have a pie!"). I'd caught Uncle Harry's eye at one point and I was grateful that he just nodded in support, but the rest of this family I guess was still trying to figure out how to deal with me. I liked to be around people, but I didn't like to talk about anything remotely heavy and I got that that was hard for some of them. If I talked to anyone at all, it was always to be asked, "Oh, how's it going?" 50 billion times and there's only so many times you can hear it before you snap and scream _OH, JUST FUCKIN' PEACHY, MATE_.

I mean, I wasn't at that point yet, but I was seriously close! I had to break away from everything at one point about halfway through the night, and that was when I actually found my sister hiding on the stairs. Sat by the wall with her arms around her knees, her face at least managed to brighten when she noticed me sneaking away to hide as well. I went and sat down next to her.

"Hey," I said in relief.

"Hey, bro," Roxanne smiled.

"You not doing so well either, huh?"

Roxanne sighed. "Not really."

"WELP, join the club," I told her. "I almost didn't even come, but then I figured that Grandma would kill me if I didn't. And considering the amount of near-death experiences I've had already, I didn't really want to tempt her."

"So Emma had nothing to do with it, then?" Roxanne teased.

" _Naaaaah_ , you crazy?" I said. "Had to force her here, kicking and screaming!"

At least it made my sister laugh. Down at the bottom of the staircase, we could just see out into a part of the lounge. Everyone mixed and mingled, from Granddad all the way down to baby Clara, who was currently using the coffee table to pull herself up to stand in an attempt to reach some biscuits on a plate. I watched as Max came along to help her, the now five-year-old lifting Clara by the pudgy waist until she had succeeded. Naturally, Clara immediately shoved the biscuit into her mouth just as Victoire turned up to see what havoc her son was getting up to this time. I couldn't see Emma down there, but I knew that she had been talking to Libby, Rose and Bea when I'd left her.

"Bro, you amaze me sometimes," Roxanne shook her head. "So … do you want to talk about it?"

"Not with them," I nodded down the stairs. "I don't know. I feel weird today."

"I always feel weird," Roxanne agreed. "Like half the time I'm ok. I go to work, I talk to my flatmates, I do shit … but then it will suddenly hit me that I can't go and see Dad at the end of the day and I'm just … I don't know. Not dealing well, I guess."

"You're tellin' me."

"I just feel like half the time it still hasn't really hit me," Roxanne added. "Like I'm just going through the motions, waiting for a ball to drop at some point. Is that normal?"

"Roxie, I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask what's normal," I scoffed. "But if we're being honest here … I don't know if it's hit me really, either. I mean, I don't even remember the entire first 24 hours."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. The hospital is a blur. I refused to get out of bed for the entire day. I scared Emma shitless."

Roxanne was quiet. I guess she probably wasn't expecting that, but I wasn't sorry for telling her. She was going through the exact same thing as I was, after all. We could probably learn a thing or two from each other's experiences. "So like," I tagged on. "I dunno, going through the motions … that sounds normal to me, Roxie."

"I'll never forget the hospital," Roxanne murmured. "Every second is burned into my brain."

"I'd say alcohol could help with that, but I think I took that advice too far myself, so I won't."

"You didn't like …" Roxanne glanced at me. "Seriously hurt yourself, did you? 'cause mate, I know you were not ok those first few weeks …"

I winced. "Not gonna lie to ya, Roxie, I got to a pretty bad point. And honestly sometimes I worry that it'll happen again because we're literally barely into this whole 'grieving' thing and _then_ I remember that we're basically going to be doing this for the rest of our lives because Dad's never coming back and … yeah. I'm a mess."

Roxanne leaned her head against mine in what I could only assume was solidarity. Cheers, sis.

Thankfully it was in that moment that someone interrupted our Staircase Time Of Big Painful Messes. Mum turned up, leaning against the wall and folding her arms across her chest. "Well, well," she mentioned, causing us to both look up in guilt, although what we'd done wrong, I wasn't quite sure. She just has that tone! "This is a sight I swear I have not seen since … forever?"

"Oh what, like we've never sat next to each other before?" I threw back.

"Don't you get smart with me, young man," Mum chastised, but she luckily didn't seem that bothered. In fact, she came to join us. She climbed the stairs until she sat on the step below Roxanne and I's feet, leaning her back against the wall and stretching her long legs out in front of her. "Oh, I'm definitely joining what appears to be a well-timed Pity Party," she added belatedly. "Can't stand it out there, either."

"Finally, someone gets it," Roxanne managed to grin.

Mum looked up at the two of us with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. I didn't appreciate my mother enough. She had lost a husband, the father of her children, and here she was still doing shit, still getting out of bed and getting on with her life. Maybe there was other stuff going on behind the scenes, like there was with all of us, but Mum was being strong solely for us and I loved her for it.

"So go on!" she said. "Are we taking turns or is it just a free for all cry session?"

"Did you want to cry?" Roxanne laughed.

"I feel like I've done enough crying these days," Mum said. "but I'll cry with you two if you want."

I held up a hand. "I'm good."

"I'll let you know how it goes," Roxanne agreed.

"So you had to escape the family madness as well, huh?" I asked.

Mum nodded with a sigh, taking Roxanne's hand from where my sister had been absently reaching down for her. "Bless Molly … I love your grandmother, honestly," Mum said. "She's been through so much, she's always been there for me and for us as a family, but it's just … she cares too much, sometimes."

"Sorry," I winced. "I guess it's kind of my fault that we're all stuck here, then."

"Yes, well," Mum shot me a look. "That's a WHOLE OTHER barrel of fish there, my dear son."

"I swear I didn't INTEND on catching a serial killer!" I insisted.

"I'm sorry, you caught him?" Roxanne poked my side with her free hand.

"Ok, to be fair I didn't do any of the actual take down, but he'd totally still be out there if it weren't for me!" I said. "Honestly, I feel terrible about getting my mates into danger like that, if there'd been any way around it I would have taken it."

"Blimey, Fred," Mum held onto me now, reaching up and grabbing my hand as well before I could protest. "You being an Auror is going to send me round the bend. You two are all I have, you hear me?" Mum squeezed both our hands almost too tightly, pulling them into her chest. "You're not allowed to do anything dangerous ever again – I love you both, ok?"

" _Muuuuuuum_ –" we both whined.

"Hey! I mean it," Mum insisted. "I love you and I am so, so proud of both of you and your dad I know was proud of you, too."

"Christ, what is this? Feelings hour?" I grumbled exasperatedly, but Mum hushed me.

"Don't listen to Fred, he's just deflecting," Roxanne grinned, eyes shining. "I love you too, Mum."

"Yeah, yeah, love you," I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, I'm very aware of how the two of you both show affection," Mum laughed at the both of us. She thankfully gave us a little space once more, letting us go to lean back against the wall again. "I can honestly say I've never seen the two of you in this close proximity to each other for this long without one of you screaming before! What happened? Have my children been Polyjuiced?"

"I could start screaming, would that make you feel better?" I asked.

Roxanne slapped my arm. "It's just nice to have someone who gets you."

" _Fine_ , yeah," I gave in. "We probably could have been kinder to each other in the past and now we're making up for it, I guess. But don't worry, sis, I still hate you," I added.

"Aw," she grinned. "You're so sweet."

Mum rolled her eyes. "How anyone handles you two, I'll never know."

"You and Emma should exchange tips, she seems to deal with him quite well," Roxanne, the sly bitch, knew exactly how to tease properly. I groaned as Mum slowly smiled.

" _Truuuuuue_ , I did hear that someone has gotten themselves a new flatmate while I've been distracted?"

"So we live together!" I threw up my hands. "It's not a big deal!"

"My son, who at one point I was fairly certain would never ever settle down in this lifetime, has a serious girlfriend," Mum pointed out. "Hush, I'm allowed to think it's a big deal!"

Christ, Mum. ROMANTICS, amiright? Can't ever win with them!

"Right! Well, I think that's my cue to say goodbye to the Family Staircase Pity Party," I said, slapping my knees. "Fun time! No, really."

"Freeeeed!" Roxanne whined as Mum held up a hand as if to keep me from standing.

" _Fine_ ," I huffed, turning to face them both. "Quite frankly yes, Emma is a big deal, and honestly thank you for believing in me and shit. The three of us … we're gonna be all right. Eventually. I love you guys, ok?"

Mum and Roxanne exchanged looks.

"Ok," Mum answered with a smile.

"Tell Emma she's nuts! Love you too, bro," Roxanne said, sweetly.

I just shook my head, before leaving them behind on the stairs. While hiding away had its appeals, it was definitely about time to leave that conversation! I don't know what the fascination with Emma and me is, I really don't. However, stepping down from the stairs somehow managed to make the noise of the house triple and I winced. Talking was always going to help, and I was better for it after being able to spend time with just Mum and Roxanne, but Dad was always going to sit heavily today and it was always in the back of my mind. Thankfully, I noticed Max still scoffing biscuits not too far away.

I loped forward and scooped up Clara before she could somehow manage to climb up onto the coffee table. "Are you guys trying to steal food together, huh?" I asked both kids. "Max! You're a terrible influence!"

"'mmm not doin' nothin'!" Max immediately said through a mouthful of biscuit.

"Yeah, yeah," I scoffed. In my arms, Clara giggled and patted my cheeks rather roughly. "Oi," I complained, trying to move out of her way. "You're pretty strong, Clara, you know that?"

Thank goodness that there was always something about Tiny Human that made me calm down. I mean, she was my favourite person in the entire world, so that probably had something to do with it. I could focus on her and not have to worry about anyone else in this house who was insisting on my attention. Clara was getting a little too heavy to hold for so long now though, so I moved throughout the crowded lounge, leaving Max to his biscuit-caper, until I found a spare seat in the window next to the fireplace. I plonked Clara down next to me and said,

"Right, you have to sit there and keep me company, ok? Don't move, or you'll fall off!"

Naturally, Clara rocked up onto her hands and knees, smacking at the window and crawling over my leg.

"Welp. I tried. Thanks for not worrying about me, by the way, Clara," I added. "and I don't mean that sarcastically! Really, it's getting kind of … I dunno, overwhelming I guess. I know everyone means well, but tough luck being born into this family if you need your space sometimes, because you're never going to get it. Thank you for not always being in my face."

Clara stood her little feet in my lap and used my shirt to pull herself up, clapping my cheeks once more happily.

"For once, could you perhaps not?"

"AHHHAAHHHHHH."

I mock gasped. "I won't tell your mother you said that!"

"Said what?"

I jumped a little, but thankfully it was only Libby. She watched with her arms folded and an amused look on her face. I hastily picked up Clara and tucked my legs underneath me so that there was room for her to sit down. "Sorry," I said, though I didn't quite know what I was even apologising for. "Did you want her back?"

"I just came over to make sure she wasn't annoying you or crying or something," Libby said, sitting down next to me. Clara squealed at the sight of her mother, and she immediately tried to tumble out of my arms to get to her. I gently placed her on her feet between us on the window seat. She reached out to Libby, before plopping down onto her bum and crawling over to her instead.

Libby swept her up, planting a kiss on Clara's cheek. "Look at you pulling yourself up to stand and everything! You'll be walking and annoying Uncle Fred in no time," she said.

"Oh, she's already got the annoying part down," I mentioned. "But don't worry, honestly. It's never a bother to look after her."

"Seriously, she's probably going to get hungry soon anyway–"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Max has been helping her steal biscuits all evening," I snorted.

"What? The little–!" Libby growled, glancing over the heads to try and see the pint-sized criminal.

"He's resourceful, that one," I noted.

"Clara doesn't need any more encouragement," Libby agreed. "She hasn't done much magic in a while, to the point where we thought she'd gotten bored of it and wanted to be a normal baby for a change, but she's started somehow magically getting out of her cot in the mornings. Seriously! I'll just walk into her room and she's already on the floor playing!"

"Oh my god," I laughed.

"But sorry," Libby quickly added, Clara sitting happily in her lap now. "God, you're probably sick of my baby talk at this point."

"Hey! Nah, I love that baby of yours," I said. "Better than the shit that's going through my head right now, after all."

Libby watched me a moment. If there was anything that I was grateful for, it was how close I'd managed to somehow become to this woman over the years. To think I actually hadn't liked her at first! I wasn't quite sure how much I wanted to tell her, if I wanted to keep up the charade of I was fine for her or whether I wanted her to know the truth, and I still hadn't made up my mind about two seconds before she asked the question,

"How are you, Fred?"

But something clicked in my head, and I answered,

"Quite frankly, Lib, not too well."

Libby glanced down at the baby on her lap. "Will cuddling Clara make it better?"

I snorted, but Libby didn't give me a choice. She lifted and placed Clara on top of me instead and the little girl didn't even seem to mind. Well, maybe cuddling would help a little. Couldn't hurt to find out.

"You can talk if you want," Libby just shrugged, leaning back against the window. "It's nice over here, it's quiet …"

"Yeah, I needed to get away from it for a bit."

"Too loud?"

"Too … everything," I sighed. "I don't know Libby, I've just been talking with Mum and Roxie and while it helped a little, sometimes it still feels like everything's shit. Like, I should be doing great! I helped catch the Reddale Killer and now he's dead. Yael and Kayla get to move on with their lives, Emma might get promoted at work, Al and Bea are hopefully gonna adopt some amazing kids, I even get to start Auror training in a couple of weeks. But it doesn't even seem to matter that all these great things are happening because there are still days I can't even get out of fucking bed."

Libby was quiet for a long moment, Clara contently chewing her hand in my lap. Then, she looked straight at me and said, "Can I tell you a secret, Fred?"

"Of course."

"Being a parent is rough," she said, not meeting mine or Clara's eyes. "Sometimes, when she's crying and I haven't slept in three days … I think that it would be so much easier if I'd never gotten pregnant. I mean, what kind of mother thinks that?" She laughed without humour, guilt clearly an old friend here. "But at the end of the day … I'm still here."

"Libby, you're an amazing mother," I felt like I needed to say.

"And you're an amazing person," Libby countered. "Maybe you feel like leaving it all behind sometimes and that's ok, but I am so proud of you for still being here, Fred. So bloody proud."

"Jesus, you're going to make me cry, Lib."

"Good!" she nodded firmly, but if I wasn't mistaken, she was looking a little teary-eyed herself. Shifting Clara so that she didn't get crushed, I leaned forward to wrap my spare arm around her and she held on tightly. I intended on staying there until Libby pulled away first, but someone approached that made us pull back to look up.

"OH SHIT, sorry!" Rose cried, apparently coming over for some reason. "Did I interrupt a moment? I'll just–"

"Rosie, what's up?" I waved off her apologies.

"I had an idea – oh, hi Clara!" She realised that Libby's baby was there and immediately, she became a cooing mess. I just held Clara up in exasperation and Rose cuddled her enthusiastically, hugging her in her arms. It's funny, I don't actually know much about Rose and her views on children. As far as I could remember, she and Scorpius wanted some one day and watching her with the baby, I had to admit, I could imagine her with one. "Blimey, she's getting big!" Rose added as Clara grabbed her necklace.

"So about this idea …?" I prompted.

"Oh right!" Rose continued. "Look, we all know that this particular shindig was thrown for you after the whole Reddale thing, but I've got some reliable sources that tell me that you're really not feeling it here. What do you say to slowly bailing for casual drinks out somewhere instead?"

"Your reliable source," I said. "does she happen to go by the name of Roxanne?"

"… and Emma," Rose admitted.

I glanced into the crowd and noticed that Mum and my sister had indeed adjourned the Staircase Pity Party. Roxanne and Emma were chatting quietly and I glanced away before they could notice me watching. "Rosie, honestly that sounds perfect."

Rose's grin was worth it. She wiggled her nose into Clara's hair and said, "You hear that? We're gonna go have fun and get drunk!"

"Yeah, but Clara's got a long time before she's allowed to join us," Libby pointed out, standing and taking her daughter back. "Guess I'm asking Harry and Ginny to please babysit for us again, hang on–"

As she left to go find her not-quite-in-laws, Rose turned back to me. "Are you sure you're up for it?" she asked, concerned. "Because I swear, it doesn't matter, if all you want to do is just go home–"

"No, no I want to," I said, standing and squeezing her hand. "I mean, our birthday party kind of ended with a bang, we didn't even get to really enjoy it! Who cares that it's six o'clock on a Wednesday?"

"Time never did stop us before!" Rose said.

It was actually quite strategic, the way it all played out! The idea quickly spread throughout the younger generation, whispers exchanging throughout the house without reaching older ears, and everyone coordinated so that we all left in staggered groups and that everyone leaving wasn't obvious enough to piss off Grandma Molly.

"Yeah, we're sooooo tired, we're definitely going to just go and crash," Libby had said while James fake yawned next to her. "Thanks for taking care of her!" she added to Harry, while Ginny just rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I just remembered, I've got a deadline due tomorrow!" Lily had used as her excuse.

"Nah, we really should be heading out now," Al had insisted. "Loads of stuff to do."

"I gotta feed my cat," I'd just shrugged.

"I'LL HELP!" Emma had called out, jumping after me. The lasts to leave, I was probably the one person Grandma Molly was the least keen to let go, but even I managed to shake her off eventually. We'd all agreed to meet at _Flash Dragon_ , but Emma grabbed my arm halfway down the path to the Apparition point and made us stop.

"Hey, um …" she began, toes digging into the dirt and biting her lip. "Look, I'm sorry if I – went too far or something … I don't know, I didn't ask you if you wanted to leave, I just suggested it when Roxie came over and she thought it was a good idea and–"

I cut her off completely by pressing my lips to hers hard.

" _I love you_ ," I said.

HAHAHAHA, WAIT. _Shit_. Ok, I swear to fucking god I hadn't intended on that coming out, it had just rolled out of my mouth before I'd even had a chance to realise what I was saying! The words ring through my head about twenty thousand times per day, I should be pretty damn good at supressing it by now, what the hell Brain?! "I – I mean … _fuck_ ," I glanced away quickly.

Look, the first time I'd ever said it, I'd screamed myself hoarse. However, essentially it had all still been about me, and I found myself with the sudden urge to try and fix that. "Sorry, it's just … look, the last time I did the whole bloody speech thing I nearly threw up on you and I don't want a repeat of that shit again, but … bear with me, I need to say this," I took a deep breath. "You know me, Emma. You know who I am and you accept every shitty side of me. I am so grateful for that and I love how much you care, how you always know how to make me feel better without having to ask. You have to know this by now, but I literally love everything about you, god – I love the way your hair looks in the mornings and how you cry at everything. I love that you're insecure and need reassurance sometimes, I love that you don't let your past define you and I can't remember if I said any of this last time, so um, fuck sorry–" I chuckled weakly.

Well, at least awkward laugh had to beat vomit in any scenario, surely.

Emma looked like she might cry again, which I swear wasn't my intention, but I did say that I loved that about her, after all. I hadn't meant it any less the last time I had spewed my guts out to her, but it had definitely been lacking something that this time wasn't. I didn't know how to describe it, I just knew that whatever reaction I got, it would somehow be worth it.

"Fred …" she began.

* * *

"… AND THEN SHE FUCKING KISSED ME," I yelled in indignation.

"Wait, wait, wait," James slammed his bottle down. "Why is that a bad thing?"

"Someone tells you they love with you, YOU SAY IT BACK, JAMES!"

Look, I'm not gonna lie to ya! Of course a part of me was selfish and just wanted to hear it back. Yeah, yeah, I'd said it all because she deserved to hear it and I owed it to myself, blah fucking blah, but screw being _moral_. I wanted my 'I love you' back, goddamn it!

Naturally, what had started as casual drinks out at _Flash Dragon_ had turned into everyone trying to re-live their eighteen-year-old glory days and hitting up the nightclubs. Not that anyone here was remotely old in the long-run, but I couldn't even remember the last time this family went all out just for the hell of it. We weren't … we weren't kids anymore. We were adults, in our late twenties, dealing with jobs and kids and death and all that other Adult Stuff but I watched Al and Bea drunkenly grind against each other and smiled because not even half an hour ago, they'd been insisting that they'd only have 'one drink, it only takes one person to see us vomiting into a gutter somewhere to then be deemed as unfit for parenthood!'. But what was one drink (or five) in the end?

My head had been stewing over the confession outside the Burrow the entire night up until this point, when I had finally snapped and stormed over to where James was sitting down for a moment, manning the designated Weasley table of jackets and purses. "I mean, what's it going to take?!" I cried out over the thumping music. "Do I need to scream it from the bloody rooftops, do I need to jump up on stage and steal the mic off that unsuspecting DJ–?"

"A part of me wants to say yes, but I don't think Emma or Libby would ever forgive me if I let you," James answered.

"THEN WHAT?"

"Mate, I don't bloody know!" James was practically laughing. "You just have to wait until she's ready to say it! You can't force her to, it doesn't work like that."

"I know," I grumbled.

"Look," James said knowingly, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I know, it sucks. I told Libby like 50 times a day until eventually I had to stop because she wasn't ready to hear it yet. But she did eventually say it, Fred. You guys have been through a lot and–"

"I know, _I_ _knooooow_ ," I whined. "It still just feels unfair when I've told her a billion times and she's never said it! I know she has to love me by this point, but why, why won't she say it–"

"Ok, do I need to cut you off?"

"Oh, I haven't drunk anything all night," I mentioned. "I don't know, today's just kind of not the day for it, I guess. But that's not the point, WHY WON'T SHE LOVE ME, JAMES–?!"

"Ok, that's it–" James span around in his chair. He took a deep breath. "SCORPIUSSS!"

" _Fuck oooooff_ , you don't need to call him in!" I complained, but naturally James ignored me completely. Most of our family wasn't far away. Lily and Emma were jumping up and down together, Libby had apparently gone and made friends with the girls in the bathroom line, while Rose and her brother apparently pulled off some ridiculously made up synchronised dance moves that had Caroline, Roxanne and Dom watching in a mixture of hysterics and amazed disbelief. Scorpius turned his head from where he was filming the nonsense on someone's phone, and came over at once.

"My wife is so talented," he said in greeting. "What's up?"

"Will you please tell Fred that Emma is very much in love with him?"

"Why is he doubting?" Scorpius asked in alarm. "What happened–"

"You know I'm right here, right?" I felt the need to point out.

Look, I love Scorpius. Can't believe I'm sitting here in the year of our lord 2031 and saying that, BUUUUUUUT, it's true! Emma joked these days that I had a bit of a crush on him at this point, and look, all I'm sayin' is that she might not be entirely wrong! (I mean, I'm joking … mostly). Thing is, Scorpius got me. He was the only person who really understood what it was I was going through and was also able to reassure me that it was going to be ok, that I would come out the other side eventually. On the days it felt like a lost cause, I could talk to him and he'd remind me to keep it together.

I had not banked on becoming friends with Scorpius Malfoy when I'd first met him, yet here we are.

"C'mon," Scorpius said, dragging over a spare stool at the table and sitting down with us. "what happened?"

"Basically, he gave a beautiful, romantic _I love you_ speech that was promptly not returned," James explained.

"MATE."

"What? Is that not what happened?"

"For fuck's sake," I groaned.

"Fred," Scorpius said at once. "Come on. Emma is so fucking in love with you, it's insane."

"THEN WHY WON'T SHE SAY IT?"

Scorpius threw up his hands. "Same reason Rose slapped me the first time I said it! We all have our issues, and we all have our ways of dealing with 'em. Obviously some people handle it better than others–"

"Yeah, no kiddin'," I said, faintly.

"–but this is just something she's got to work through by herself," Scorpius shrugged.

"So she'll say it when she's ready?"

"THAT'S LITERALLY WHAT I JUST TOLD YOU!" James said in outrage.

"But it makes sense coming from Scorpius!"

"Ah, fuck both of you," James scoffed.

I laughed at him slumping down in his seat in a huff. As Scorpius called out to his wife from across the dance floor, I reached out and clamped a hand on James' shoulder. "James, you know I love you, right?"

"I hate you," he deadpanned.

"I'm serious!" I said, shaking his shoulder. "If the world exploded and I could only keep one other person alive, I'd bloody pick you, mate! Remember when we were shithead kids? I had a million friends, but you were the only one that actually mattered. We've both grown up, which is a fuckin' travesty if you ask me, but apparently it happens whether you like it or not and you've always been there. Like … ALWAYS. You are my _best friend_ , you are my brother, James – I fuckin' love you and shit, ok?"

"Are you SURE you're not drunk?" he asked, but quite honestly, he did finally seem a little touched. James wrapped his arm back around me in return and said, "Thanks, Fred. Love you too, or whatever the fuck."

"YUUUUS! Bros for life!" I yelled, slamming him in the chest, making him wince. "Hey, where did Scorpius go?" I added, suddenly realising that he wasn't there with us still.

"I believe he's happy with his tongue down his wife's throat," James pointed out not too far away, where Rose and Scorpius were now apparently kissing furiously against the tide of dancers. Wow, those dance moves must've been better than I'd originally thought! Watching them be all happy and shit made me think of Emma, and I suddenly wanted to know where she was in the crowd. Last I'd seen she was dancing with Lily, so I grabbed James and hauled him after me.

Our old haunts usually were rather seedy places. The floor was always sticky, the lighting tacky, and it was never uncommon to see couples fucking in the dark over near the bathrooms. But damn, these were the best places. Shit happened here, we spent the better parts of our Saturday nights here! We plunged into the crowd, making our way to where most of the family was dancing, pulsing to the beat. James got to Emma first, scooping her up and spinning her round with a laugh. Libby had finally gotten out of the bathroom line and turned up with about four new best friends, who were all greeted enthusiastically despite none of us having ever met them before in our lives. I danced mostly by myself, hands in the air, moving through the bodies and the heat. I held Dom's drink for her while she fished her necklace out of her bra. I ruffled Hugo's hair. I accidentally caught Rose's eye from over Scorpius' shoulder as he kissed her neck and she just laughed when I pulled a disgusted face.

At one point, I found myself dancing with Bea. She must have lost her husband somewhere in the melee because I'd been certain that nothing could pry them apart, but she cheerfully clung around my neck, singing loudly along with the music. About halfway through a particular rousing party anthem, however, Bea suddenly jumped.

"You all right?" I yelled over the music.

"Yeah, yeah!" she nodded as she frantically dug in a pocket. Apparently her phone must have been buzzing on her since she hastily yanked it out and struggled to answer it. Who the hell was calling her this late at night?

Bea yelled out a hello, and about two seconds later, her eyes went wide. "HOLD ON, oh my god, hold on!" she said, before suddenly grabbing at my wrist. She slammed the phone into her chest in an attempt to muffle the noise as she whisper-yelled at me, " _It's our social worker, we have to get outside!_ "

NOT A DRILL, FOLKS.

It's incredible the formation this family can fucking pull off when it comes down to it. Al was found within three seconds, Bea shouting at him frantically while I ran and yanked on James and Emma's shoulders. Libby was dragged away from her new friends, Lily practically hung off her brother's arm, even Rose and Scorpius broke apart to join us. We practically sprinted throughout the club, bursting out into the street in a sweaty, panting mess. Emma stumbled into the street and I caught her elbow as Bea finally skidded to a halt several feet down the road from the club entrance, already back on the phone. "PENNY, yes, I'm here – no, of course not, I don't mind at all–" she hastily said, leaning heavily against Al's shoulder. He pressed his ear to the phone with her as the rest of us all crashed to a halt gathered around them.

" _Don't tell her you're drunk_ –!" Al hissed and Bea slammed his shoulder.

Look, none of us really had any clue what was going on. Maybe if it was a normal hour to be calling someone at we wouldn't have all high-tailed it out there as well. But let's face it, it wasn't a normal hour, so we had all turned into lunatics apparently! I mean, why else would a social worker be calling at this time of night? Something had happened, a decision must have been made, and the tension was felt throughout the entire group as fingers gripped each other and looks were exchanged.

"Oh, don't worry, you didn't catch us at a bad time–" Bea was hastily saying. "What can I do for you, Penny?"

It happened simultaneously. After about thirty seconds of listening, Bea gasped. It seemed that Al knew his wife so well that he could tell what was happening just from the look on her face, since he then suddenly whooped, leaning over and pressing kisses to her hair, her face, as Bea apparently just held a hand over her mouth and tried not to cry.

"That's–" she choked. "Just – thank you–"

She apparently couldn't handle much more than that. She turned and buried her face into Al's shoulder, breaking down into complete sobs. Al hastily grabbed the phone, grinning as he took over the call. "Penny? It's Al here – yes, yes, I heard, holy – thank you for letting us know–"

That was about when the tension broke and Rose lost her patience entirely.

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!" she shrieked.

Al held the phone away from his ear, one arm still curled around his crying wife, fingers tangled in her hair.

"An adoption match was officially approved," he answered. "We're getting our kids!"

Well, holy shit. I felt for Penny the social worker's poor ears, because we literally all screamed. Shrieks and cries rang out for what felt like an age, the entire group of us throwing ourselves at Al and Bea. We jumped up and down and yelled to the point where even the bouncers down the road started to stare at us in amazement. "I'M AN UNCLE!" James kept shouting, Rose's face pouring with tears as Bea moved and flung herself at her. We were all ecstatic, no one able to shut up long enough to actually hear more of what Penny was even saying. Emma was tugging at my arm, jumping and saying, "Oh my god, oh my god!" and I laughed as Al finally remembered to talk to Penny once more. He wiped his eyes hastily, Scorpius' arm wrapped around his shoulders as he said,

"Shit, I'm – I really am sorry – we were kind of in the middle of a family thing when you called – oh, it's fine – yes, yeah, you could say they're excited for us–"

"NO SHIT!" Libby yelled.

The call was thankfully a short one. When Al finally hung up the screams could really continue in earnest. We all knew how much this meant to Al and Bea, we all knew about how they'd climbed buildings and gone through pain and counselling and months and months of agonised waiting just for this. If there was anyone who deserved this kind of happiness, it was Al and Bea. It was only when one of the bouncers came over to tell us all to please move on that we all finally calmed down somewhat. I didn't know where we were going, but we all started making our way down the street. Rose carried Bea on her back, Al struggling to walk since he was staggering under the weight of both James and Lily still hugging their brother. Libby, Scorpius, Dom, Hugo and Caroline … we all danced after them, cheering and still talking excitedly.

Emma and I brought up the rear. "Can ya believe it?!" she cried.

"I know, it's insane–! _Whoa_ ," I hastily caught Emma as she tripped spectacularly. I kept an arm slung around her waist as I hauled her back upright. "Steady on, girl!"

" _Sorry_ – shit, I drank waaaaay too much," Emma was positively giggling now against my shoulder.

"I can tell."

"But Fred!" Emma leaned heavily into my side as we walked, definitely beyond keeping herself upright. "Freeeed, this means we get ta keep Ruby! Or yanno – she's our niece now, or whatever the hell – I've missed those kids so much – oh my god, it's soooo cool! Isn't it cool, Fred?"

I grinned. "Yeah, it's amazing."

"Hey, _hey_ –" She suddenly stumbled to a halt, reaching up to hold my face in her hands. Amused, I kept her on her feet as she drunkenly rambled, for whatever reason. "So much brilliant shit is 'appening and I want ya to know – I know life sucks – but you're gonna be ok, because you're fuckin' – fuckin' the best thing that ever 'appened to me – shit, shit, I can't believe I'm at the point where I'm sayin' that!" Her ridiculous laugh made me grin even more. "But I'm serious, you're my _best friend_ – an' I'm sorry that you've 'ad to handle so much but know that you are a good person, ok? You deserve the bloody world and I love you so damn fuckin' much, Fred–"

"Ooookay, keep it together, Princess," I hastily cut her off then, heart pounding.

"I mean it, I'm serious!"

"I know," I said. "but maybe it's best to wait until you're not bloody hammered to be saying all this, yeah?"

"Oh," Emma's scrunched up little face fell. "Oh, fuck. I'm just fuckin' up everythin' – Christ, we can't do anything righ', can we?"

" _Emma_ ," I kissed her quickly, desperate to get that look out of her eyes. "Shut up. We'll get it right eventually. We'll have this conversation again later, y'know, when you're more sober and I'm less messed up. Ok?"

She nodded.

"Ok."

"HEY, IDIOTS," James suddenly yelled at us then, everyone apparently having paused when they realised that we weren't still with them. "ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?"

I glanced at Emma for a second, before bending down and gesturing behind me. "C'mon then, climb on! Let's face it, you're not going anywhere fast anytime soon."

Emma clinging to my back, we ran to catch up with our family.

* * *

A/N: ASJSFKJFDJKFUIFFHFFKH EMMA SAID I LOVE YOU (DRUNK, BUT WHATEVER)! AL AND BEA GET THEIR BABIES! EVERYONE'S GONNA BE OK! WE REACHED THE FUCKING END HOLY SHIT

I cannot believe we got to this point. I'm kind of in awe. Only the epilogue left after this! I hope this last chapter was ok and that you all enjoyed it. I usually ask at the end of my fics, what was your favourite part of this story? Favourite character/scene/moment/ship/line/whatever it is, please tell me! I'll love you forever!

The epilogue will be posted real soon. Thank you so much for everything guys, you're all incredible. x

I love you!  
Moon. xoxo


	40. That one time I did the impossible

That One Time I Fell In Love

(And Other Impossible Things). Fred Weasley II finally meets his match in the form of one loud-mouthed and free-spirited, Emma Terry. [NextGen GIR World!]

* * *

Epilogue: That one time I did some impossible things.

 _Four months later  
(December, 2031) _

Late December is probably not the best time to go on holiday in England, just pointing that out for ya!

(You're all fuckin' welcome).

But it was the only time that both of us could get the time off, what with work being insanely busy for both of us lately, and after the fiasco that was Christmas, we'd figured it was about time to use that hotel brochure that Emma had gotten me ( _read: us_ ) for my birthday. Naturally, it was raining on the Cornwall coast, because when doesn't it rain in England, but at least the beachside town of Newquay had a lot going for it.

Going on holiday together was … certainly something. The topic had come up so quickly ("Look, I still have a week off until I have to go back to work, do you want to go to Cornwall and get drunk on the beach?" "UH, YES PLEASE?") so I really hadn't had the time to wrap my head around the fact that OH, SHIT FRED, YOU ARE ON YOUR FIRST EVER TRIP AWAY WITH A GIRL! I was here to take dumb tourist photos, eat out in fancy places and hold hands on the beach and all that shit. Since when had I become the kind of person who did this sort of thing? I hadn't had a good ol' relationship spiral in a long time (how's THAT for development?) but I suppose that meant I was overdue for one! Therefore, I had admittedly panicked a lot over our first couple of days here and in true Fred Fashion, I mentioned absolutely none of it. Instead, I just acted suuuuper weird until finally, Emma had grabbed my hand earlier at dinner and said, "Shut the fuck up, Bonehead. Let's go to the beach."

How she puts up with me, I'll never know.

"Emma, it's cold as hell out here, I'm freezing my balls off!" I called out over the wind. "What are we doing?"

"We are having what's called a good time, damn it!" Emma yelled back. She ran over the sand back to my side, grabbing my hand and dragging me after her. "A little bad weather never hurt anyone!"

"Tell that to my head when it finally blows off."

She just snorted, her ridiculous hair kept under control in the wind by being trapped underneath a woollen beanie. Naturally, we had Fiscal Beach literally all to ourselves, since the rest of Newquay was apparently normal and didn't have a death wish. It was picturesque, here, I'll admit. The beach stretched out for miles either side, several large and classic hotels lining the road behind us. Emma pulled me nearly all the way to the water's edge, before leaning down to pull her boots off.

"Oh, what in god's name are you doing?" I asked in amazement.

"Paddling!"

"Oh no, you don't," I warned, even as she was stripping her socks off and rolling up her leggings. "Your feet are gonna come back with fucking frostbite!"

"Come catch me then," she grinned, before dancing back out of the way.

"GOD DAMNIT, EMMA–"

 _Splash._ She was already in the water.

"I can't take you anywhere," I shook my head. "How is it?"

"I definitely can't feel my toes, hooooly shit! But come on!"

If anyone was going to be the death of me, it was this woman. My poor feet were already crying about being forced to plunge into icy water, but I stripped them off anyway, my jeans thankfully easy to roll up to the knee. "JESUS CHRIST," I yelped when the first waves hit.

"Ah, yes!" Emma grinned, leaping majestically through the water to reach me. "Feeeeeel the crisp chill between your toes!"

"I'm gonna have no toes in a minute."

"Quit whining – JUMP THE WAVE!" Emma yelled dramatically. We both jumped into the air and landed with identical freezing splashes. "See?" she asked, happily. "Isn't this fun?"

I glanced down at her and felt my chest lurch painfully. This was the best I'd felt in months, despite the cold, and of all reactions I could have had, I ended up pulling finger guns at her and saying,

"SPLENDID."

Emma kicked water at me. "Yeah, ok," she said. "You've been acting like you're on drugs for long enough. What gives, mate?"

"I have nooooo idea what you're–"

"Save it," Emma held up a hand.

"Fine," I braced myself against another wave hitting. "I guess the whole … 'trip away together' thing … I dunno, it's been a lot to handle."

At least she didn't seem surprised. If anything she actually got it, nodding in agreement and staring resolutely out at the ocean. A small smile adorned her lips as she said,

"I guess it is a pretty serious relationship milestone."

HAHAHAHAHAHA. OH, SHIT.

Look, we don't talk about this. You know that, we just don't go there! We've never been good communicators, we've never been good at being straight-forward and emotional, our best conversations seem to happen when we just let it all pile up as a big stressful 'to-do list'. You know the ones! It's that mound of paperwork you leaving lying on your desk that you KNOW you should be filing, but you're hoping that the longer you ignore it the higher the chance it might just get accidentally shredded someday and you won't have to worry! Well, I'm telling ya now, that paperwork ain't ever leaving, mate. It's always gonna be there, sitting on your bloody desk, yelling 'FILE ME, FILE ME' until eventually, you get to this point.

Our best tactic so far seems to be to just let things happen as they come. It's all or nothing. Finally, one of us gets sick of the anxiety and we plough through the entire pile with as much efficiency and as quickly as possible in hopes that we won't have to do it again for another say, ten years?

Apparently, it had piled up enough. It was time to do paperwork.

"YEP." I winced at the pitch.

"Wow," Emma laughed. "I haven't heard your voice ever get _that_ high and squeaky before."

"Uh–" I coughed hastily. "I mean, _yes_. Sorry, I didn't realise that we'd … erm, y'know … be doing this."

"We don't have to."

I still couldn't look at her, but I reached out and lightly grazed her hand with mine. "I know, but… we should. WAIT, _fuck_ , who said that?" I glanced around as if some other person with waaaaay less commitment issues than I had might just suddenly pop up from the frigid water.

Emma rolled her eyes, purposefully shoving into me as she jumped over another wave. Apparently, she was willing to let me lead this conversation, as she didn't speak at all. She remained silent, happily frollicking through the water, until finally I got up the courage to speak.

"We're in a relationship."

She grinned at the waves.

"Honey, we've been in a relationship a long time."

I batted at her shoulder. "I'm sorry we don't talk about it."

"That's not just your fault," Emma said. "Fred, everything is two-way. Trust me, if I'd wanted to talk about it too, I would have mentioned it."

"I suck at this," I told her. "Shit, most days I don't even know what I'm doing! I'm an arsehole even in some of my best moments."

"You're forgetting that I fell for said arsehole," Emma mentioned. "You don't need to worry."

"My life is a mess," I said, weakly.

"So's mine," she shrugged.

I glanced away, trying to supress the guilt.

We were here to try and get away from the stresses of real life, only sometimes it felt like the stress had just bloody followed us here. It had been the first Christmas without Dad. It been a rough first few months of Auror training. Emma's promotion meant she had been working at all hours lately and overall, things were pretty shitty at the moment. This was supposed to be a chance to get away from all that!

Fortunately, Emma always had the ability to notice whatever mood I was in. Sometimes it came in handy, especially when I didn't even know how I was feeling myself, but other times I did wish that I was better at hiding it all. It still wasn't any better. I don't know what the hell kind of numb state I must have been in those first couple months, but October was about when everything about Dad had suddenly hit with the force of a freight train and I'd spiralled downhill again. It was almost worse than the first time, because I'd somehow gotten it into my head that I was on the up now, that surely I'd hit rock bottom by this point and couldn't get any further. WELP, turns out I had a shovel and I was willing to dig deeper! My dear Hannah must have had a field day.

Some days, I look at Emma and don't even know why she's still here. She's had to put up with so much from me, on top of dealing with anything that also came along in her life, but she was nothing if not stubborn. She resolutely stayed by my side on the days I couldn't function, she would bring me coffee and comfort snacks, she would let me hold her however long I needed … I honestly don't know what I would have fucking done without her.

"Sometimes I wish that everything was easier," I said to the ocean.

"That would be nice," Emma agreed.

"Do you ever wish that you'd never slept with me?"

Emma pretended to think. "WEEEEELLLLLLL …"

"KNEW IT."

"Nah," Emma shoved my arm, jumping over another wave. I let it crash around my calves. "Sure, you're batshit crazy, but the sex was too good, mate."

"That makes me feel better!" I said, cheerfully. But then I turned to look at her and added, "But in all honesty, Emma … thank you. I know I'm not … it hasn't been easy. None of it has been, but I'm still standing here because of you, so."

She stared at me, glassy eyed, and I kind of Panicked.

" _Fuck_ ," I added. "Was that too much? I don't think I seriously meant that–"

"Hey," she cut me off with a smile. "Shut up." She stepped forward, tilting her chin up. I met her lips halfway, freezing hands curling up around her neck through her hair. She arched up to meet me, winding her arms around my waist. Waves still crashed against us every now and then and if we weren't careful, we were going to lose our balance and plunge to our icy deaths, but for now we were more than willing to risk it.

"It's ok," she murmured into my mouth.

I might have kissed her longer, but that was about when a rogue wave hit us out of nowhere. Larger than all the others, it slammed into us and we both shrieked. Emma was thrown off her feet entirely, landing on her arse in the water. I staggered, swearing at the cold.

"WHYYYYY, EMMA!"

But she was laughing hysterically, tossing wet hair out of her eyes. "I AM A FUCKING ICE CUBE!"

"YEAH, NO SHIT," I stomped through the water, reaching out with wet and numb hands. She tried to pull herself up, but naturally more waves just kept on coming and after twenty minutes of floundering through the shallows, chasing Emma's beanie that was slowly floating away, emptying out pockets of water and kicking up spray at each other, we were able to slowly stagger our way out of the ocean. Gasping at the cold, I let Emma kiss with cold lips a bit too much until we were both shivering and were forced to pull back, lest we both get hypothermia. Luckily the beach was empty so that I could pull out my wand, drying our clothes.

We moved up the beach back to where we'd left our shoes. Emma collapsed down next to me, coat still steaming slightly. "Oh my god, I honestly don't think I can feel my hands!"

"Yeah, that's what happens when you plunge them into sub-zero water, you insane woman," Socks and shoes thankfully back on our bodies, I scooted over closer to her side on the sand, grabbing her hands in mine. We stayed quiet for a few moments, using each other to get the heat back in our bodies.

"This doesn't really work when it's still kind of raining," Emma pointed out, glancing up a little.

"Shut up. It's supposed to be a nice moment, or whatever the hell."

"Whatever you say," Emma smirked. "God, I don't want to go home in two days."

"Think of the positives!" I nudged her shoulder. "We'll get to see our lovely niece once more!"

"For the last time, Ruby is not our niece," Emma rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but who has the time to say adoptive-cousin-once-removed?" I said. Since it was the school holidays, the now Ruby Potter had come home from Hogwarts! We hadn't gotten to see her yet since we'd escaped to Cornwall the second Christmas was over, but I know that I was excited to see the girl again. Blimey, it had to have been hard on Al and Bea, going from no kids, to suddenly having four of them, one of which who was going off to Hogwarts for the first time less than two weeks later. But hey, if there was anyone who could handle that kind of transition to parenthood, it was Al and Bea Potter.

James and Libby were great, but let's face it, they could barely handle running after a rambunctious toddler.

"Things are changing, huh."

"You gotta be more specific, mate," Emma smiled.

"I just mean … everyone's having kids now," I sighed. "Or starting new careers, or getting married or moving away … and we don't all hang out like we used to. I didn't even see James and Libby at Christmas, because they spent it with Libby's family this year! Everyone's getting their own lives, growing up, doing shit, and I'm still here, 26 and still spending Christmas at home with just my mum because my dad is dead and dealing with the occasional mental breakdown …"

"Fred," Emma's fingers clenched around mine. "It's ok that you're still grieving."

"I know. It's not that … I dunno," I grumbled. "Look, you know me! I don't deal with change that well."

"That well?"

"OKAAAY, at all," I conceded.

"Honey, I don't know what to tell ya," Emma snorted. "You have changed so fuckin' much since I first met you, it's not even funny."

"Fuck off," I laughed.

"Are you kiddin'?" Emma said in astonishment. "Fred! When we first met you could barely talk to me if it wasn't to politely ask me to take my shirt off."

"What? We tooootally talked," I scoffed.

"Clearly, you remember things a little differently than me."

"I wasn't … THAT much of a douchebag, right?" I asked, hesitantly.

"If anything even remotely more emotional than how we were doing that day came up, you went screaming for the hills!" Emma argued. "Face it! Fred Weasley's changed over the years, mate. But don't worry, for the record, I've loved all versions of him."

"Fuck offfff – _wait_ –"

That made me come to a screeching halt. Emma tensed slightly next to me and I almost didn't dare look at her.

Did she just say … look, after all the disastrous attempts that had happened so far, that particular word was almost a trigger now. It had been very, very securely locked away somewhere, apparently neither of us wanting yet another confession that didn't count. But here we were, sitting on a beach in the rain, not drunk and holding hands … hell, it was actually kind of romantic? What kind of bullfuckery …

I glanced over at her. Nervousness clouded her eyes, but her smile was genuine.

"Yeah, fuck it, I'm saying this. I love you, Fred," She turned to look right at me. "Literally the moment I met you, I figured that you were either going to be a complete and utter diaster, or somehow the best thing that had ever happened to me. I'm not sure how you ended up being both, but I wouldn't take back a second. You are stupid and ridiculous and wonderful and … I am so stupidly and ridiculously and wonderfully in love with you."

OH, GOODBYE HEART. NO, NO, DON'T WORRY I DIDN'T NEED YOU ANYWAY.

Look, to be fair, I've done a lot of shit over the last few years that I might have once thought impossible. I could protest as much as I wanted, but Emma was right. The Fred before he'd met Emma never would have slept with the same person twice! That Fred would have died rather than give up control for someone or punch a famous Quidditch player in the face. He certainly never would have become friends with the same girl he was trying to get over. Forget freaking out over feelings and fuck ever actually saying the words, because that me just wouldn't be able to comprehend the idea. The thought of ever falling even a little bit for someone was terrifying, let alone falling in fucking love and eventually moving in with said person, but OH LOOK AT THAT, I'd somehow gone and done it all anyway! To be honest, I was at the point where it was hard to even associate current me with past me. We felt like two entirely different people, like there was no bloody way at all that we could be one in the same, but I guess that's why this had happened in stops and starts over months and years, rather than in leaps and bounds. Slowly but surely, I'd become the person I was today.

It was just something about Emma Terry made me defy everything that I'd ever known and truly achieve the impossible.

"I love you, too," I grinned.

But you know … I'm ok with that.

* * *

 _Fin_

* * *

A/N: This epilogue has plagued me, PLAGUED ME I TELL YOU. I apologise if it's Not Good, but I seriously hope you like it. :)

This is honestly the hardest ending I've ever had to face, for a number of reasons. I can't even begin to explain how much this fic means to me, not to mention that it finally actually feels like the end of GIR World for me. When all the other fics finished, I knew already what was coming next and it never felt like the end, but now I'm here without any plans for the future and i"M SOBBIN

But mostly I'm a mess because these fics have literally chronicled my life growing up. Nine years ago I first posted GIR and over those nine years, I've grown from a 16 year old child to the 25 year old adult I am today. If you've been with me since then, you'll have seen me go through the end of high school, all of my university years, my time spent travelling and working overseas, all the way until now where I've just moved cities and started full time work. This universe, these characters, they've always been with me as I've grown up into the woman I am today and I am quite literally typing this and crying haAHJFAFAHFHDHK!

I can't say thank you enough. Thank you to the friends I have made through this universe (you know who you are), thank you to those people who have always been there, always commenting and always reading. Thank you for loving Fred and Emma. Thank you for believing in their story.

JUST THANK YOU!  
I love you guys so much.

Moon. xoxo

PS. I use my AO3 account ( **Moonprincess92** ) and tumblr ( **url: moonprincess92nz** ) to mostly scream about other fandoms, but please if you come hit me up and yell at me about GIR World, I swear to god I would die of utter happiness! I'm not abandoning this world forever, I have ideas in my head and while I don't quite have the energy to write them just yet, I'd love to talk about them with you guys! Please come ask me questions and/or yell at me about the future of your favourite obscure side characters and I promise, I'll answer anything and everything. :D


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